Long time lurker and enjoyer of cringe. Sorry if I scared you with the title. I honestly don't know if anyone in this story could be considered a beard, myself included. That is for you to decide, but we will be exploring the encounters I had with some not great people. This seems like a great spot to drop a trigger warning for sexual assault and pedophillia, both in this and all following posts. With a little self reflection though, I recognize that I could be the poster child for what reddex always says. We all narrowly missed beardom.
I'll start with a bit of psychoanalysis. You'll recognize some of my traits as I tell my story, but what better way to collect data for the fight against beardom. I have always liked to be helpful. People pleasers with an extreme aversion to conflict tend to live for others like that. That, on top of ADHD and possible narcissism, means I was whatever I needed to be in the moment.
I loved the attention. That lack of impulse control made me a "go with the flow" kind of gal, and I had a lot of friends from different groups. Unfortunately, this made me susceptible to a lot of manipulation. It's ironic that I couldn't recognize some of my own tactics from the other direction. If you've ever seen "D&D Secret Alignments" (and if you haven't, go search YouTube) I am good evil.
Don't let any of that excuse my actions. When cops are investigating a murderer, they try to find the motive. It's just some context to mull over as we continue. We're starting pretty early with our first couple beard candidates. That's why we're skipping a cast list. Elementary school is pretty far back, and it'll be touch and go for this episode.
So there was a boy in school who had a crush on me. Everyone thought he was weird, but I was raised in the "give everyone a chance" rom com era. He asked me on a movie date and I said yes, because what kid is going to say no to a free movie. My parents probably thought it was harmless, so don't judge them too harshly.
I didn't really see the significance of the date part. I don't remember what we saw, but I do remember that I went to go play at his house after. He wanted to show me his tree house, and I got a bad feeling. At first I refused, but he eventually pestered me enough that I agreed.
Not long after we went in, he tried to kiss me. I turned my head away and said no, but he tried to hold me down. I pushed him off and ran out. Shortly after, my parents came to pick me up. I don't remember talking to him again after that.
Now dear readers, I was in anywhere between 1st to 4th grade at the time. He must have been as well, otherwise neither of our parents would have agreed to the date. I hesitate to brand that young of a person as a neckbeard. He might have been too young to understand what he was doing. Of course, I'm really good at coming up with excuses for behavior. It is for the Reddx community to decide.
This next guy is a complete piece of shit though. All names changed, bla bla. I had a group of friends that I hung out with in my hometown. Our friend Jason lived in a big farmhouse down the road, and we would all hang out in the loft of the barn. His older brother Tanner would hang around too.
He was always showing off by jumping out of the loft, and doing fire tricks with lighter fluid. My friends and I thought he was really cool, and we all had a crush on him. In the way that an elementary school girl would be impressed by the high schooler that hangs out with them.
Well one day, Tanner rides over with his bike to ask if I want to hang out. I find this less acceptable for my parents to let fly, but maybe they thought Jason was home like I did. He was not. I was so self satisfied that a high schooler wanted to hang out with just me.
Now I was so lucky in this scenario that I don't expect you to believe this part, but I swear to you this happened. It is literally the reason I believe in God, no exaggeration. When Tanner took the only available seat, he asked if I wanted to sit in his lap. I was so embarrassed that I immediately said I was fine standing. I proceeded to pace around the loft restlessly, rambling about nothing in particular.
I was wearing flip flops at the time, and stepped on a board with a nail in it. It went through the side, and it narrowly missed my foot. I just pulled it out, threw it to the side, and kept pace talking. The second time I stepped on that board, the nail went between my toes.
When I again pulled it out and tossed it aside, Tanner commented that I should probably move it. I said, "I already stepped on it twice. What are the chances that I step on it a third time?" The third time I stepped on it, the nail went into the heel of my foot. I remember looking down confused and saying, "Umm... oww?" I didn't feel a thing. Tanner freaked out and took me to the house to patch my foot, then I walked home.
Now, all of that may seem long winded, but at the time I remember feeling proud in that moment. I was obviously not aware of how bad that situation was. Tanner was constantly showing off that he had a high pain tolerance. I just had a nail go through my foot and didn't feel anything. I thought that it somehow made me cooler.
I didn’t say anything to my parents about it. I had stepped on a rusty nail, and that meant a shot. A few years later, it came out that Tanner was sexually assaulting his brother Jason. He ended up going to prison for a few years, and eventually the family moved out of that house. On a side note, they were cooking meth in that house. I also didn't understand the significance of blankets stapled to the walls at that age.
I know we didn't get into much beard territory in this one. I promise we will touch on a story with more detail in the next part. We also get into some of my questionable decisions as well. Still, it would be a disservice to leave these two out of the fold. Even if short, they were an important part of my journey. I'll see y'all in the next one.

Hey been a week ish. Last girl ghosted me. Not the first or last time for sure i bet. So here we are again. Its been a bunch of posts since the last large one with ridiculous detail so brace yourselves. Please read the whole thing. I know its alot but something might stand out as a conversation starter or a concern to you. It will also reveal a clue as to my security questions answer
Howdy. I am Jason. To start I know it says USA/Online but if your local (river valley arkansas) or from somewhere in europe or else where in the world feel free to message me. If it wasnt obvious i want something long term preferably. Im traditional in my views of relationships for the most part. Meaning ideally a relationship leading to marriage and a family.
So about me. Im from north east oklahoma originally. Near tulsa. And now live west central Arkansas in the river valley. Im very southern. I did AFJROTC and band in school. I went striaght into the workforce and currently work as a security guard. I work from midnight to 8 am so im a night owl. But i function normally on my days off.
Im a gamer. I play on two platforms. Xbox but on pc primarily. I play anything from call of duty to age of empires and minecraft. Im sure if you play games i play something you do. Except fortnite. That game is a scourge on this planet.
I dont use social media, i hate snap chat, facebook, tiktok, instagram, insert other annoying mainstream social media app here. I literally only use reddit for this and for trouble shooting tech issues. And discord. But discord is almost a hard requirement for gaming now. Best bet for getting ahold of me is on there. Because i generally assume chats or dms on here are bots. Unless you pass my security check of course. Which will come later.
I am a recreational shooter. I collect guns and other historical memorabilia like helmets, uniforms, medals, etc and shooting at the range. I own an Armalite Rifle and Avtomat Kalashnikov. Its an expensive hobby. And means the fed know who i am. Where i am. And what i say at all times. So if you dont lile the fed i apologize. I wish they didnt know me but its a cost of my rights apparantly. That and ridiculous tax stamps.
Im physically not very interesting. Im like somewhere between 5'10 and 6 foot. I was last measured in highschool. Im on the heavier side but definitely not like to big to ride amusment park rides or fly on planes i guess. I got that redneckish good ole boy facial structure. If you really wanna see my face i have a picture of me here at work i can share. And im sure old JROTC pics of me still exist. I also dress either like im to lazy to dress or i get 'cowboyed up' if im goim somewhere.
Disclaimer. If you dont like politics or religion skip this paragraph. I believe a healthy relationship isnt possible with secrets about personal beliefs and political ones. Im what would be considered right wing leaning now. Although when i was 17/18 i was considered left leaning. I believe in the 10 god given rights enshrined by law. I believe in god. Non demoninational christian but leaning into the baptist mindset. I believe in the nuclear family, traditional love, and other 'conservative' values. Personally id call myself a populist or classical liberal in the sense of im a live and let live just keep it in your own home kinda guy. If you did read this and are still here. Thank you. Your already more intelligent than the majority of reddit. Your a real hero.
I guess this is the last thing. And this part you can either feel in the blanks or somethin. All i ask is be 18-28, have atleast 1 or 2 things in common. Be open mindednand willing to agree to disagree on my beliefs. And be looking for a longterm family oriented relationship goal.
Now for the "security" check and discord exchange. Start off with my discord. Its Jason Lawrence Lewis#6292. And the security question for my reddit messages. It might require a google search for some of you. But. Its what does the AR in AR-15 or the AK in AK-47/74 stand for. If you message me that in your opening message i will explain what the numbers in both mean in my opening response to yall. If you do not answer the security question i will IGNORE you message because i know you didnt read this. And will not waste my time A. Being bot trapped. Or B. Trolled. Thank yall have a great morning, day, afternoon, evening, night where ever you are. Hope to here from all yall soon.

i had been doing IT stuff on the side for a few years then went on to do it full time professionally from 2003 to February of 2023.
i was tired of many aspects of IT, and assumed the pastures would be greener any where else. i had been thinking of getting out of IT for a few years, but when my pay checks were sucking on top of not enjoying not only my job but where IT is headed i started looking for anything just to get away from it.
within the hour of decided i was done with IT i called the owner of a small but very successful hardware store, and by hardware i mean crap for the home, screws, bolts, wood, think home depot.
1 week later the owners of the company made me an offer as store manager with a staff of maybe 15 employees ranging from 17 to 70 years old, and i couldn't refuse this opportunity.
despite my feeling mentally challenged i have never had a problem learning new things but omg this is tough. the pays is really good, so good that i dont know how they can afford my salary. they gave me an advance of 4k to help with the transition into the position, as they only pay monthly and just received my first check today. i wouldnt be surprised if they dont even want the advance money back, they are very good people and when i asked how and when do i begin paying back the advance i was told not too worry about it. they also told me that some of their employees received 5k to 15k in bonuses last year, which explains the work out put.
i admit i dont plan well, but now i have the most money in my bank account than i have had in probably close to 10 years.
also, the owners work 7 days a week and assume everyone else wants to do the same. these people honestly live to work, and thats part of the transition that is going to make this hard, but IT made me soft and i am about 30lbs over weight so i feel like i am in boot camp.
i am used to sitting on my butt or standing in front of a server all day, and not dealing with maybe 3 or 4 people a day. now its constant, and it feels like i am dealing with 3 or 4 people at a time all day and another 10 high priority things that i cant get to and another 30 lower priority things that i need to do but dont even have time to plan how to go about it.
basically i have a todo list, and the first and only item on the list is "create todo list".
​
i feel like i am babbling and complaining at this point despite being paid well and got exactly what i asked for, but had just one more point to make and that is this is killing my feet. also, i ride a bike for exercise and both indoors on a trainer and outside when its nice, but this is work makes me feel like i have been doing nothing and expected to run a marathon every day.
anyways, just wanted to introduce my self here, as i suspect i will be here from time to time venting about bs lol

Hey everyone. I live in Espoo and I started commuting by bike this winter. I enjoy that a lot but I’ve experienced recurring sinuses and throat infections since then. I tend to breathe with my mouth for some parts of my ride and that leaves by throat extremely dry. I’ve try my best to rehydrate but apparently I’m not doing enough. I’ve been falling sick every month :( . I’m suspecting that the dryness in the throat and in the nasal passage is leaving me susceptible to pathogens.
I wanted to ask folks who commute by bike have had similar experiences and have any suggestions or tips for me? I’d love to commute by bike all seasons and get rid of my car.

Once upon a time, there lived a man called Norman.
Norman was not particularly smart, or fast, or strong or charismatic or even particularly lucky. He wasn't stupid or slow, nor was he weak or socially inept. If anything, Norman was painfully average. Everything about him was utterly uninteresting.
Norman worked as a manager of a sales team for a company that he couldn't be bothered to remember the name of. Every day he did paperwork, counted beans, handled complaints and generally just stayed in his office. He was a good enough boss; somewhat absentee, but everyone under him knew that if they had a problem, he could deal with it.
"Dealing with it" was how Norman went along with life. He once heard of the phrase "this too, shall pass" and didn't take it to heart as much as he made it the core of his entire philosophy. In life he encountered problems, and his day-to-day happenings consisted of dealing with them. If he couldn't deal with a problem or fix an issue, he found that simply riding out the consequences and adjusting to the shifts it caused would often solve the problem.
Take Norman's job, for example. Norman didn't care much for paperwork. He found it boring to fill out memos, approve forms, and juggle spreadsheets. Despite this, Norman was good at it and it made him money, so he dealt with it. His parents were overbearing, judging and stricter with him while favoring his sister, so he kept contact at a minimum and dealt with the problem.
For whatever reason, Norman wasn't really affected by the stress caused by problems. This manifested in an almost supernatural ability to remain calm in all kinds of situations. He simply dealt with stressful situations and moved on. When one of his salesmen had to take an emergency leave and threw his carefully built shift schedule into chaos, Norman dealt with it. His subordinates eased into the shift change nicely. When his pet rabbit died, he dealt with it. He didn't shed a single tear.
Norman thought that it was because he was detached, in a way. Those sorts of things didn't really bother him. He never could explain why.
Norman wanted to be a robotics engineer when he was young. He loved machines and read plenty of sci-fi stories. Especially the ones involving robots. Norman didn't want to be a sales team supervisor, but he dealt with it.
He sometimes took junk computers home with him, where he had a little workshop where he spent his free time tinkering and soldering and plugging things together. He named his PC Frankenstein because all of its parts came from otherwise broken computers. He used Frankenstein to write code for little robotic doodads that he made.
One day, he realized that he didn't really like making his little doodads anymore. Maybe he didn't have the time for it, or maybe it didn't interest him anymore, but he visited his workshop less and less. He dealt with it.
It turned out some of his colleagues went fishing on occasion. He learned to fish and went with them, and for a while he had fun. But he showed up less and less. He didn't have the time for it, or maybe he didn't have the energy to go out, but he didn't really go fishing anymore. He dealt with it.
At a family gathering, Norman's parents fawned over his sister and her achievements. She was a doctor. They scoffed at Norman's 9-to-5 office job. Norman didn't say anything. He felt he had done good, but didn't contradict his parents. He knew what would happen if he did. So he dealt with it.
Ever so slowly, problems became more and more prevalent. They never got to a point of actual contention but they became more and more annoying to deal with. Norman dealt with his problems, but complained a little more when he did it. He became pessimistic.
Norman started predicting what little ways the day might screw up for him. His reward system twisted itself into something worse. He was wrong as much as he was right, but every time he was right he got a twinge of sick satisfaction of having gamed the universe in a way. So he remembered the bad happenings more than the good happenings.
Norman became bitter inside. Outside nothing really changed. He was always a bit withdrawn so nobody really noticed everything. But he became bitter. He became subtly colder in his dealings with other people. A bit more sarcastic.
He didn't really do anything anymore. He woke up, ate breakfast, went to work, came home, ate dinner and went to sleep. He didn't want to do anything more. Everything he did invited more and more problems, more and more pressure to deal with it. He minimized the problems he encountered.
And he dealt with it.
One day, it clicked. Norman was unhappy but he couldn't really explain why he was unhappy. It was almost as if living was a drug, and slowly, ever so slowly he built up a tolerance for it. Things happening didn't really elicit a response anymore. Norman had facilitated enough HR meetings to see depression when he saw it.
Norman was confused. He shouldn't have depression of all things. Only the socially inept, the poor, the addicts, the lonely got depressed. To have depression meant you had something wrong in your life. Norman's life was perfect. He was financially stable, had a roof over his head and food on his table, a good job and people who he liked to think liked him. But the fact still stood that he exhibited all the symptoms of depression.
This was a problem.
Norman was always a bit introspective, and he applied his experience with his tinkering hobby to many things. It was one of the reasons for his expertise in mathematics, for example. Even with calculus, math was really a machine, a complicated machine with numbers for motors and variables for switches. Take apart an equation and put it back together, and you can figure out which part was missing. Which gear could create the desired outcome.
Norman had read many stories, both in books and online, of machines becoming people. He reasoned that perhaps depression is what it was called when people became machines.
Because really, his existence was almost mechanical now. His routine was straight and cold. He figured that an advanced enough algorithm could go through his motions as effectively as he could.
A routine was a coping mechanism. And what happens when that routine becomes excessive? To the point that it blots out everything else?
What was the point of it all?
Norman considered this one night, as he lay awake in bed. After a day of work, just before another day of work identical to what he had just gone through.
What was the point? To just work and work and work? No. For entertainment? Norman did browse memes now and then. Mindless entertainment. There was no point to that, either.
What if Norman could just… end it all?
He'd thought of it on occasion. At first he'd contemplate it after particularly devastating fights with his parents. After returns of grades he thought were good but were never enough. At first it was out of misinformed revenge. He hadn't been valued by his parents. Only abused, treated like an investment more than a person.
Some people only appreciate things when they're gone.
Now, Norman had different reasons. He didn't really see a point to it anymore. He found life boring, and tiring, and annoying. Problems upon problems upon problems. For so long all he had done was deal with problems only to find more problems. He hadn't cracked under the pressure, but he had certainly changed. Deformed. Warped like an overstressed support.
He could deal with it all right now.
Norman didn't really know what happened after death, but whatever it was he wouldn't have to deal with all the fucking problems anymore.
At this point another person might have gotten help, or talked with someone. Norman didn't have anyone to talk to. All he had was his work and his problems. He had acquaintances at most. He hated people, because all they did was bring him more problems.
And a little part of him thought, "Huh. That's pathetic."
He considered it. That'd be weird if he went and offed himself on only his prerogative. As far as he figured nobody really wanted it. Nobody even disliked him that much except for his parents, and he'd cut them off long ago.
Other people have had depression. Maybe they could help.
A sensible part of him went, "No. All they'd do is give you more problems. And you'd have to deal with it."
“But a little more problems is a lot better than just ending it," said the first part of Norman. "Maybe if we exhaust all other options to find a reason to live, then we could go on happily, knowing we tried everything we could."
So Norman went and reached out for help. Even if it would give him problems. But it was the only option he had left.
Now, Norman was lucky. His boss lightened his workload immediately and referred him to therapy. He learned to spot when that sensible part of him wasn't being so sensible. To find the fallacies that part told him. To look at things a little better. To figure out which problems were problems and which problems were merely inconveniences. What problems should be solved and which ones could be simply evaded.
Many people aren't so lucky. They are simply pushed away, or their cries for help are seen as weird anomalies instead of something worse. So watch carefully if you feel someone might need help.
Norman began to do small things. He shaved once. He changed his tie. Washed the dishes. He went out on a walk in the park. And he began to see.
Norman didn't really pay attention to the world these days. He just kind of assumed everything was overcast and gray and dreary. He never really did appreciate the vivid diversity of color the world provided in even a public park, underfunded and bland as it was.
When Norman appreciated the little things in life, he appreciated the little problems as well. Sometimes there really was no problem at all, especially when talking to people. He began to open up to people, and slowly gained a network of friends in his coworkers. He went fishing again. He booted up Frankenstein again. He met people in his hobby groups and made more friends. He even ended up dating.
Describing the process only took a few pages, but for Norman it took months and months and months. At first it was a herculean effort to just keep going, like running through a minefield in the dark. Every natural instinct in his body told Norman that every step would be his last. It turned out, many of the mines in his field were simply water balloons. Some of them were just plates of metal with clickers in them, placed there by people whose opinions didn't really matter.
As he worked on himself, it was as if the sun came up, and he figured out that his minefield didn't really have that many mines in it. Those few mines that did exist were easy to see. And he had help. His friends let him know where the mines were, what to do, because they cared about him. They had fun with him. And Norman simply appreciated the act of walking, even if it was in a minefield. Norman was sure he couldn't have done it on his own.
Yes, people helped him. But it was Norman who started it. It was Norman who began his journey, like the primer that begins the explosion that has a bullet flying from a gun. And Norman learned that there are always people willing to help you, if only you reached out and asked. The real trick was finding them.
Norman had read on the internet once that what some people considered the first sign of human civilization was an ancient leg bone that had once been broken, showing signs of having been fully healed. The reasoning was that for any animal, even for the herd and pack animals, even for the so-called eusocial animals such as bees, a broken leg was a death sentence. To survive a broken leg, someone would have to be helped. They would have had to have been a burden and a net loss on their companions, who bear the brunt anyway. Who helped each other. They say that helping each other for the sake of it is the first sign of civilization.
One day, Norman went to the park, the one where it all began. He was good friends with his boss, and had even been given a raise for outstanding work. He had a cat, now - also named Norman. He didn't move on, go to school and get a "dream job" as a robotics engineer as he once wanted - he knew to never make your passion your job. He was fine with his tinkering hobby. He had recently made Frankenstein a set of legs and was working towards having it take its first steps.
He sat on a park bench with his girlfriend - now fiancée - and thought. He wondered. His brush with death had left him quite philosophical.
Humans, he thought. Humans are social animals. But that isn’t really what separates humans from animals. Herds, packs, hives, prides and schools exist in the animal kingdom. Not empathy, either. Rats, mice, dogs, cats and all kinds of animals used extensively as test subjects have been shown to empathize.
No, what sets humans apart is the drive to help each other. Wolves will leave one of their own to die if they suffer a broken leg. Bees that are damaged beyond repair are simply left outside the hive to freeze. Mice and rats will gladly leave an incapacitated fellow to their fate. But humans?
Only humans would risk so much to drag an injured friend back home. Only humans would spend weeks and weeks nursing a fellow back to life when the only probable result would be a death and a waste of resources. Only humans would stop to help one less fortunate when there is no benefit to themselves. They wouldn’t have a society otherwise.
Norman looked out on the park, his soon-to-be wife’s head on his shoulder, and a satisfied smile crept across his face, the first he had had in a long while.
And he was happy. Because he hadn’t been left behind.
This was humanity’s motto:
No man left behind.

Once upon a time, there lived a man called Norman.
Norman was not particularly smart, or fast, or strong or charismatic or even particularly lucky. He wasn't stupid or slow, nor was he weak or socially inept. If anything, Norman was painfully average. Everything about him was utterly uninteresting.
Norman worked as a manager of a sales team for a company that he couldn't be bothered to remember the name of. Every day he did paperwork, counted beans, handled complaints and generally just stayed in his office. He was a good enough boss; somewhat absentee, but everyone under him knew that if they had a problem, he could deal with it.
"Dealing with it" was how Norman went along with life. He once heard of the phrase "this too, shall pass" and didn't take it to heart as much as he made it the core of his entire philosophy. In life he encountered problems, and his day-to-day happenings consisted of dealing with them. If he couldn't deal with a problem or fix an issue, he found that simply riding out the consequences and adjusting to the shifts it caused would often solve the problem.
Take Norman's job, for example. Norman didn't care much for paperwork. He found it boring to fill out memos, approve forms, and juggle spreadsheets. Despite this, Norman was good at it and it made him money, so he dealt with it. His parents were overbearing, judging and stricter with him while favoring his sister, so he kept contact at a minimum and dealt with the problem.
For whatever reason, Norman wasn't really affected by the stress caused by problems. This manifested in an almost supernatural ability to remain calm in all kinds of situations. He simply dealt with stressful situations and moved on. When one of his salesmen had to take an emergency leave and threw his carefully built shift schedule into chaos, Norman dealt with it. His subordinates eased into the shift change nicely. When his pet rabbit died, he dealt with it. He didn't shed a single tear.
Norman thought that it was because he was detached, in a way. Those sorts of things didn't really bother him. He never could explain why.
Norman wanted to be a robotics engineer when he was young. He loved machines and read plenty of sci-fi stories. Especially the ones involving robots. Norman didn't want to be a sales team supervisor, but he dealt with it.
He sometimes took junk computers home with him, where he had a little workshop where he spent his free time tinkering and soldering and plugging things together. He named his PC Frankenstein because all of its parts came from otherwise broken computers. He used Frankenstein to write code for little robotic doodads that he made.
One day, he realized that he didn't really like making his little doodads anymore. Maybe he didn't have the time for it, or maybe it didn't interest him anymore, but he visited his workshop less and less. He dealt with it.
It turned out some of his colleagues went fishing on occasion. He learned to fish and went with them, and for a while he had fun. But he showed up less and less. He didn't have the time for it, or maybe he didn't have the energy to go out, but he didn't really go fishing anymore. He dealt with it.
At a family gathering, Norman's parents fawned over his sister and her achievements. She was a doctor. They scoffed at Norman's 9-to-5 office job. Norman didn't say anything. He felt he had done good, but didn't contradict his parents. He knew what would happen if he did. So he dealt with it.
Ever so slowly, problems became more and more prevalent. They never got to a point of actual contention but they became more and more annoying to deal with. Norman dealt with his problems, but complained a little more when he did it. He became pessimistic.
Norman started predicting what little ways the day might screw up for him. His reward system twisted itself into something worse. He was wrong as much as he was right, but every time he was right he got a twinge of sick satisfaction of having gamed the universe in a way. So he remembered the bad happenings more than the good happenings.
Norman became bitter inside. Outside nothing really changed. He was always a bit withdrawn so nobody really noticed everything. But he became bitter. He became subtly colder in his dealings with other people. A bit more sarcastic.
He didn't really do anything anymore. He woke up, ate breakfast, went to work, came home, ate dinner and went to sleep. He didn't want to do anything more. Everything he did invited more and more problems, more and more pressure to deal with it. He minimized the problems he encountered.
And he dealt with it.
One day, it clicked. Norman was unhappy but he couldn't really explain why he was unhappy. It was almost as if living was a drug, and slowly, ever so slowly he built up a tolerance for it. Things happening didn't really elicit a response anymore. Norman had facilitated enough HR meetings to see depression when he saw it.
Norman was confused. He shouldn't have depression of all things. Only the socially inept, the poor, the addicts, the lonely got depressed. To have depression meant you had something wrong in your life. Norman's life was perfect. He was financially stable, had a roof over his head and food on his table, a good job and people who he liked to think liked him. But the fact still stood that he exhibited all the symptoms of depression.
This was a problem.
Norman was always a bit introspective, and he applied his experience with his tinkering hobby to many things. It was one of the reasons for his expertise in mathematics, for example. Even with calculus, math was really a machine, a complicated machine with numbers for motors and variables for switches. Take apart an equation and put it back together, and you can figure out which part was missing. Which gear could create the desired outcome.
Norman had read many stories, both in books and online, of machines becoming people. He reasoned that perhaps depression is what it was called when people became machines.
Because really, his existence was almost mechanical now. His routine was straight and cold. He figured that an advanced enough algorithm could go through his motions as effectively as he could.
A routine was a coping mechanism. And what happens when that routine becomes excessive? To the point that it blots out everything else?
What was the point of it all?
Norman considered this one night, as he lay awake in bed. After a day of work, just before another day of work identical to what he had just gone through.
What was the point? To just work and work and work? No. For entertainment? Norman did browse memes now and then. Mindless entertainment. There was no point to that, either.
What if Norman could just… end it all?
He'd thought of it on occasion. At first he'd contemplate it after particularly devastating fights with his parents. After returns of grades he thought were good but were never enough. At first it was out of misinformed revenge. He hadn't been valued by his parents. Only abused, treated like an investment more than a person.
Some people only appreciate things when they're gone.
Now, Norman had different reasons. He didn't really see a point to it anymore. He found life boring, and tiring, and annoying. Problems upon problems upon problems. For so long all he had done was deal with problems only to find more problems. He hadn't cracked under the pressure, but he had certainly changed. Deformed. Warped like an overstressed support.
He could deal with it all right now.
Norman didn't really know what happened after death, but whatever it was he wouldn't have to deal with all the fucking problems anymore.
At this point another person might have gotten help, or talked with someone. Norman didn't have anyone to talk to. All he had was his work and his problems. He had acquaintances at most. He hated people, because all they did was bring him more problems.
And a little part of him thought, "Huh. That's pathetic."
He considered it. That'd be weird if he went and offed himself on only his prerogative. As far as he figured nobody really wanted it. Nobody even disliked him that much except for his parents, and he'd cut them off long ago.
Other people have had depression. Maybe they could help.
A sensible part of him went, "No. All they'd do is give you more problems. And you'd have to deal with it."
“But a little more problems is a lot better than just ending it," said the first part of Norman. "Maybe if we exhaust all other options to find a reason to live, then we could go on happily, knowing we tried everything we could."
So Norman went and reached out for help. Even if it would give him problems. But it was the only option he had left.
Now, Norman was lucky. His boss lightened his workload immediately and referred him to therapy. He learned to spot when that sensible part of him wasn't being so sensible. To find the fallacies that part told him. To look at things a little better. To figure out which problems were problems and which problems were merely inconveniences. What problems should be solved and which ones could be simply evaded.
Many people aren't so lucky. They are simply pushed away, or their cries for help are seen as weird anomalies instead of something worse. So watch carefully if you feel someone might need help.
Norman began to do small things. He shaved once. He changed his tie. Washed the dishes. He went out on a walk in the park. And he began to see.
Norman didn't really pay attention to the world these days. He just kind of assumed everything was overcast and gray and dreary. He never really did appreciate the vivid diversity of color the world provided in even a public park, underfunded and bland as it was.
When Norman appreciated the little things in life, he appreciated the little problems as well. Sometimes there really was no problem at all, especially when talking to people. He began to open up to people, and slowly gained a network of friends in his coworkers. He went fishing again. He booted up Frankenstein again. He met people in his hobby groups and made more friends. He even ended up dating.
Describing the process only took a few pages, but for Norman it took months and months and months. At first it was a herculean effort to just keep going, like running through a minefield in the dark. Every natural instinct in his body told Norman that every step would be his last. It turned out, many of the mines in his field were simply water balloons. Some of them were just plates of metal with clickers in them, placed there by people whose opinions didn't really matter.
As he worked on himself, it was as if the sun came up, and he figured out that his minefield didn't really have that many mines in it. Those few mines that did exist were easy to see. And he had help. His friends let him know where the mines were, what to do, because they cared about him. They had fun with him. And Norman simply appreciated the act of walking, even if it was in a minefield. Norman was sure he couldn't have done it on his own.
Yes, people helped him. But it was Norman who started it. It was Norman who began his journey, like the primer that begins the explosion that has a bullet flying from a gun. And Norman learned that there are always people willing to help you, if only you reached out and asked. The real trick was finding them.
Norman had read on the internet once that what some people considered the first sign of human civilization was an ancient leg bone that had once been broken, showing signs of having been fully healed. The reasoning was that for any animal, even for the herd and pack animals, even for the so-called eusocial animals such as bees, a broken leg was a death sentence. To survive a broken leg, someone would have to be helped. They would have had to have been a burden and a net loss on their companions, who bear the brunt anyway. Who helped each other. They say that helping each other for the sake of it is the first sign of civilization.
One day, Norman went to the park, the one where it all began. He was good friends with his boss, and had even been given a raise for outstanding work. He had a new pet rabbit. He didn't move on, go to school and get a "dream job" as a robotics engineer as he once wanted - he knew to never make your passion your job. He was fine with his tinkering hobby. He had recently made Frankenstein a set of legs and was working towards having it take its first steps.
He sat on a park bench with his girlfriend - now fiancée - and thought. He wondered. His brush with death had left him quite philosophical.
Humans, he thought. Humans are social animals. But that isn’t really what separates humans from animals. Herds, packs, hives, prides and schools exist in the animal kingdom. Not empathy, either. Rats, mice, dogs, cats and all kinds of animals used extensively as test subjects have been shown to empathize.
No, what sets humans apart is the drive to help each other. Wolves will leave one of their own to die if they suffer a broken leg. Bees that are damaged beyond repair are simply left outside the hive to freeze. Mice and rats will gladly leave an incapacitated fellow to their fate. But humans?
Only humans would risk so much to drag an injured friend back home. Only humans would spend weeks and weeks nursing a fellow back to life when the only probable result would be a death and a waste of resources. Only humans would stop to help one less fortunate when there is no benefit to themselves. They wouldn’t have a society otherwise.
Norman looked out on the park, his soon-to-be wife’s head on his shoulder, and a satisfied smile crept across his face, the first he had had in a long while.
And he was happy. Because he hadn’t been left behind.
This was humanity’s motto:
No man left behind.

Against my better judgement and usual self control, I've gotten into a discussion with black ppl on instagram trying to tell mixed ppl "what" they are, what they aren't, and how they can identify. It gets so exhausting being denied by black ppl. What's worse is that it was a post made by a mixed person, the original comment was a mixed person speaking on their frustrations, and my reply to them was an encouraging one ensuring them that they are allowed to claim all parts of their ancestry and that they are valid. Idk why anyone else felt the need to chime in just to put us down. The majority of us [mixed ppl] ride SO HARD for black ppl and for a lot of them to not accept us is so upsetting.
So yeah, I'm usually pretty secure in knowing my racial identity but every now and again I start to question my validity, especially when black ppl challenge it. Just wanted to vent! I feel like it's such a big deal for many us that we are accepted into the black community obv bc it's our ancestry and family and it's US. But also bc half the white ppl don't accept us bc we're just black to them and the other half are all too happy to ignore our blackness (which can come out in really ugly ways such as them making racist comments in front of us or saying things like "yeah, but you're different than those kind of ppl" or "you're a good one"; both of which my own white family has said.)
Anyway, I just wanted to vent because I'm feeling really sad about it. Sad that I can't feel free to express my rightful identity out in the open without fear of someone threatening to take that away from me. I'm sure yall can relate. Will I ever get to a place of feeling fully secure in my racial identity?

Though it was extremely difficult to choose a top 25, below is the list I came up with. Note that I haven't heard every single LDR song, released and unreleased, so this list is based on what I am familiar with, with is mainly 2010 Lizzy Grant thru Chemtrails. I haven't heard Blue Banisters or Ocean Blvd. Once I do listen to them, there may be an addendum to this list.
For some background, I began listening to Lana in 2014. I had heard "Born to Die" and "Video Games" in 2012 and thought they were really fantastic songs, but I didn't take the time to dive deeper into the album or her previous music. Tbh I bought Ultraviolence more or less on a whim; I saw quite a bit about Lana on tumblr, thought she looked cool (alright, I had a celebrity crush). From first listen, I was hooked. I kind of stopped listening after Norman fucking Rockwell. Life happened and I guess I just sort of tapered off. Anyway, I recently revisited her discography and wow.. I really enjoyed Chemtrails. Looking forward to discovering even more music, especially with the most recent release.
Hope you enjoy this list and feel free to comment your own! Or, if you'd like to just name a few of your favorites, that's fine too :)
Honorable mentions: Yayo, Mariners Apt Complex, Pawn Shop Blues

1. SHADES OF COOL

This was one of the first songs I heard from Lana (Ultraviolence was the first record of hers I bought). It took some time for it to grow on me; tbh at first I thought it was one of the weaker tracks on the albums and didn't really understand why it would be chosen for a single. I love her operatic vocals that build up over the slow guitars. It may not be the most energetic song, but I do love the emotion in this one. I think the intended use of the word "shades" was probably referring to colors (like shades of blue), but I can't help but think of "shades" as being referred to as sunglasses lol. When listening to this, I picture a guy or lady (or both) wearing dark aviators while cruising in a 1964 Aston Martin. Or a 49 Mercury.

1. GET DRUNK

I love, love, love times one million... the majority of '90s music. I'm a 90's kid, so I wasn't really present for nor consuming the early '90s grunge acts like Nirvana, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, etc. when they were in their heyday. However, I absolutely adore them now as an adult. If you ever have the chance to see them, Alice in Chains is fantastic live. Anyway, "Get Drunk" is straight outta 1991 Seattle and I absolutely love it. Lyrics-wise, it's not anything mind-blowing, but I still think it's one of the best songs she's ever recorded. She expresses a confident vulnerability, about convincing someone to get drunk with her in secret.. at first, with breathy vocals, and building up into a self-assured "get drunk" repeated over a haunting acoustic guitar.

1. YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE

I feel like not as many people know about this cover(?) This song is from the 1945 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical "Carousel," and was recorded first by Frank Sinatra. It's a fairly popular song, so I am a bit embarassed to say that, as of writing this, I have never heard any other version aside from Lana's. Other performers include Elvis Presley, Barbra Streisand, and Gerry and the Pacemakers. What I love about the Lana del Rey version is, aside from it being the obviously better "pandemic era" song (vs. "Imagine"), it's so positive and uplifting. Very emotional. Her voice is tailor-made for this type of music. I love the piano and strings, plus the choir adds a nice touch.

1. BLACK BEAUTY

Full disclosure: it's pretty difficult for me to not include basically all of Ultraviolence on this list because I think it's a 10/10 album with no filler. That might be because it was the first album and basically the first Lana songs I heard at that time. I'm going to try to keep it varied though. I chose Black Beauty for it's anthemic, catchy chorus and it's sweeping melody. It's just one of those songs that's really easy to listen to. Also, I enjoyed the book. Side note: if a stripped down acoustic version of this exists, I would really love to hear it.

1. BLUE VELVET

One thing that I appreciate about Lana covering songs is that she stays true to the original. I think her versions of classic songs sound great because she has a lot of respect for the original artists. "Blue Velvet" is a prime example of that. I remember playing this song on loop a few years ago and being completely mesmerized. It's like I was transported to 1951...

1. LUST FOR LIFE

...and this song transports me to summer 2017. I remember listening to this album on a lot of road trips that summer and fall. The title track was definitely a highlight for me. The Weeknd is a phenomenal addition and I'm happy that they collaborated for this one. It's a fun, dreamy pop song that doesn't make you think too hard, it just exists as it is. For every few dark and dreary songs, you need some that shine and just make you feel good. So I'm really glad Lust for Life was able to exude that.

1. TOMORROW NEVER CAME

This duet with Sean Ono Lennon barely beat out Lust for Life for me, but I think I enjoy this a little more than the previous song. It really does sound like it could have been a Beatles song (Abbey Road era, maybe?) Or maybe Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam. I really love all of the layers to their voices and also the folksy, dreamy quality is endearing. It reminded me a lot of walking through Central Park in New York City. I remember strolling through the strawberry field but tbh what it really evokes in my memory is walking through where the Alice in Wonderland area is, as it began to mist/drizzle rain. Random connection, but that's what immediately comes to mind.

1. PUT ME IN A MOVIE

I wasn't a huge fan of this song at first; I thought it was okay-ish. I think part of the reason for that is that the lyrics are difficult to read and listen to. It's one of those songs that sound really good but after realizing what it's about, you feel a sense of sickness. Tbh I think those are some of the most important songs one can listen to. After some time, I think it's one of the better songs on the Lizzy Grant album. I like the steady drums and mesmerizing guitar.

1. CHANGE

It's just a straight up beautiful song. There's really nothing too complicated about it. I just love it for its simplicty as a piano ballad and the self-assured/confident lyrics. There's something very human or personable about this song.

1. FUCK IT I LOVE YOU

I know that so many say this song evokes images of California and surfing, but I actually think it has more of a 1960s British pop sound. That might just be me. Anyway, it's really difficult to choose favorite songs off of NFR!, but I would say this, as the first single, is one of my favorites. "The Greatest" following the music video is a chef's kiss as well.

1. OLD MONEY

You're probably saying to yourself, "What?!" Or you maybe completely forgot about this song lol. I don't know. I just really enjoy it. It reminds me of another song I love and you should check out if you have the chance: "Athair Ar Neamh" by Enya.

1. LOVE SONG

It's just like floating in a dreamscape of love and clouds and sunshine and marshmallows. Not much else to say except I think it's one of her better "being in love" songs, because it sounds exactly like being in love.

1. DANCE TILL WE DIE

Chemtrails gets a spot! Or maybe a few more. This song is awesome just for it's bridge alone. And it's one of my favorites on the album. It reminds me a lot of the songs on Ultraviolence.

1. YOSEMITE

I grew up listening to country and folk music, so I do have a special love for Chemtrails. It's difficult to narrow down favorite tracks, but I would say this one, with its crisp acoustic guitar and her soaring vocals, it feels like waking up in the mountains and breathing in the fresh air as the squirrels scamper nearby and there's the smoky remnants of a fire from the night before. I know Lizzy grew up in the Adirondacks, but I appreciate that she pays homage to other national parks too.

1. CHEMTRAILS OVER THE COUNTRY CLUB

Alright, one more and then I'll stop. It's a haunting, melancholic song that on its surface is quite simple. Reminds me a lot of summer. When reading into more of the lyrics, my interpretation is that it's a criticsm of the American dream. On a side note, this is one of my top 3 Lana music videos as well.

1. BORN TO DIE

One of the first Lana songs I heard, I couldn't exclude this one from the list of my favorites. As many times as I've heard it, I never get tired of listening.

1. SALVATORE

It's probably the dark horse of this list, but I just really love this song for some reason. Honeymoon is probably my least favorite of her albums (don't hate it in any way, just not my favorite), but this track stands out as one of my favorites. It's mysterious, it's kind of silly, but mostly it pulls you into a Old World-esque ambiance of Italy and ice cream (gelato?) and fun/happiness.

1. DRIVING IN CARS WITH BOYS

My favorite of her unreleased songs, with one of my favorite lyrics, "I was born to live fast, die young, leave a beautiful corpse, live my life on the run."

1. LUCKY ONES

Probably an unpopular opinion to even put this one in the top ten, but its been one of my favorite songs of hers for a long time. It reminds me of when I moved into my first apartment because it was around that time, roughly ten years ago, that I first listened to this song in the dead heat of summer.

1. MONEY POWER GLORY

The first time I heard this on Ultraviolence, I knew it was going to be one of my favorites on that album. I love songs that could, in theory, inspire a feature length film. Whenever I hear this song, I immediately begin conjuring up random movie scenes.

1. VIDEO GAMES

It was obviously going to be on the list, and the in the top 5: the first Lana Del Rey song I ever heard. Its the quintessential summer-turning-into-fall song for me. I don't feel like I can really describe this song any better than what's already been said I'm sure hundreds of times before, but I will just say that its a crazy weird feeling.. both happiness and sadness simultaneously. Feeling both nostalgia and "in the present."

1. WEST COAST

It's one of her most unique productions, I love the slowed-down chorus. And it has one of my favorite music videos. Love the beach vibes and black and white aesthetic.

1. COLA

This is the song that really cemented me as a Lana fan. It's just so fun and catchy, and a perfect opening number for live concerts. I love how the verses weave in and around the bombastic chorus. It just feels like the quintessential festival song. And I loved the Pepsi reply on Twitter.

1. MUSIC TO WATCH BOYS TO

I hear the first 2 seconds of this song and I'm instantly back in 2015, in the dead of summer, hanging out with my friends in my apartment after traveling to New Orleans. It just reminds me of a really specific, more innocent time in my life. I've always just really loved this song; it's like standing in a warm hug on a beach, breathing in the salty air.

1. RIDE

Yep! Ride is my favorite Lana song. It was extremely difficult to choose one for the top spot, but I think if I had to listen to one LDR song for the rest of my life, this would be the one. It's the perfect song for every occasion. In addition to road trips, I also like to listen to it when bicycling. Also, the film is.. amazing. Easily my favorite music video of hers as well.

I've never been good at expressing myself or how I feel due to the stigma and outlandish nature and severity of some of my issues. But in the short 19 years I've been alive, I've never told anyone the things I've done, or the things others have done to me in an attempt to take them to my grave. But seeing as I outlived the life expectancy I imagined, I figured typing it out would allow me to let go of it and feel better because I feel horrible. So, without further stalling, I think I'll just hop into it, starting at the beginning.
When I was little, I lived a life similar to what I'm accustomed to now. Alone and fairly lonely, the few friends I had were due to being more well-adjusted or, at the very least, less fucked up. In addition, one of my friends was the child of my mother's best friend, and we were about the same age. The earliest memory I have is when I was 4 years old and something I can't remember happened. I was upset about something, and my mom left me in the room to cry while she went and played with my friend. While this situation has little relevance today, I think it's a good example of the catalyst that drove my behavior all through my life to what it is now, mainly my relationship with my mom, along with others we'll get to later.
My mother was not the nicest to me, and as I grew older, I would learn how much of an understatement that was. So skip forward a couple of years due to my memory and the irrelevancy of them to the story. Basically, I was a normal-ish kid with a few friends here and there who occasionally got in trouble, for which I almost always got my ass kicked, but who didn't? Jumping back in at around 9 years old, I was in the third grade, probably my favorite year in school due to having met my best friends and getting along with most other kids. The abuse had already taken hold at this age; I was already pretty apathetic to most feelings and never smiled. It was so noticeable that when I finally did smile, a girl at lunch pointed it out like she had seen a unicorn. But I wasn't depressed; I was just angry and didn't know how to express myself.
As a result, I got into more trouble, some of it BS, some of it not, such as my music teacher sending me to the principal for mouthing curse words while quietly talking to myself. In my defense, I wasn't talking about her; I was all the way in the back and didn't know the ambiguous individual could read lips. In fifth grade, I had a female teacher and her assistant whom I disliked because the teacher, in my opinion, was a dick and her assistant would constantly misinterpret what I said as if I were speaking Japanese. She asked me for a paper, and it being a round table, I didn't want to bend all the way across the table to slide her the paper. So I slid the paper gently across the table, and, as anticlimactic as it sounds, the paper slowly made its way to her, and she did not even attempt to grab it or stop it. Instead, she let it fall on the floor and claimed I "threw" it at her. I got sent to my homie at this point, the principal (she wasn't my biggest fan either).
These two incidents led to some of the worst ass beatings I've received at this point in my life. I would later come home to my mom, who is about 2.5 times bigger and stronger than me, and she was furious. I was punched in my chest and thrown into a stool on the ground, followed by a merciless beating with a belt, and left alone to stare at a wall, wallowing in my sadness. I think I could have handled the physical abuse, but the most damaging was the mental and verbal abuse. I would be forced to strip down to my t-shirt and underwear and stand at the door for hours. while she faked phone calls to my relatives, telling them to come get me and that I'd be leaving, before telling me to go sit down. I was constantly threatened with my life if I didn't comply, told I was a worthless "father less individual", etc. I would yell and scream so loudly that apparently our neighbors could hear it, which led to DCFS being called.
How it was explained to me was that the lady next door was crazy (even though we knew her kid, who was like 2 years younger and went to the same school), and the DCFS agent would take me away to a horrible place, a foster home. My mother told me that if that were the case, I wouldn't be placed with my other family members; nope, straight to the government. She came in my room a week before the agent to "warn" me of the dangers I might face if I snitched on her. She made me watch an hour-long documentary about people who were abused by the staff of foster homes, drilling into my head that if I ended up there, the other kids would pick on me and steal from me. That the staff would repeatedly molest (she had a weird thing with this one; I was asked about it every other day if "someone was playing with my butt" completely unprompted from 3rd to 6th grade) me and my toe would be eaten by mice as she claimed happened to my cousin (apparently he needed his toe graphed back on but I never confirmed this with him).
All of this terrified me, so when the time came to nut up or shut up, my nuts retracted back upstairs, and I most definitely shut up big time. Unable to process my emotions, they started manifesting in anger, which led to me being excluded from certain events at school like the outdoor fun day. I had to stay inside while everyone else played. The principal told me that she was going easy on me, and had she been following the rules, I'd have been expelled from elementary school already (I did get suspended though). When it came time to visit the middle school near the end of the year, I had to beg them to let me go because apparently my reputation preceded me, and the middle school principal knew who I was and asked me not to come because of my behavior. My mother had an overwhelming amount of control over my life and others that I would only learn about when I was older (she was responsible for me being in the same class as my best friend 3rd through 5th grade and making sure they served food I would eat on an out-of-state field trip so I wouldn't starve). (It's not really negative, but it sets the tone for how it would soon turn negative.)
Sixth grade rolled around, but this time I got to stay with my great-grandmother in the south. The entire time away from my mother and I improved significantly; I made a lot more friends (probably because of southern hospitality) and overall had a good time (trust me, it was an oddly cool school with equally cool teachers) except for a couple other issues that came with living with my grandma. I returned the next year to mom and a new middle school. All that progress from earlier, yeah, went straight out the window almost immediately. My anger had subsided, and what was left developed into a deep depression and resentment for people, my mom included. I thought people were worthless, making friends useless, so I went out of my way to avoid most people for the longest time. Until I succumbed to my social urges and made a few friends by avoiding the lunch room and eating in one of the science classes with some kids I had other classes with. During this time, I was reluctantly in "therapy" (I had been there since elementary, just talking to social workers, but nothing came of it until now).
Trouble would always seem to follow me; anytime a message was relayed from the school to mom, it almost guaranteed an ass beating. I would seemingly get in trouble for nothing, and my teachers would unknowingly be sending me on my way down death row to meet the executioner. Once I got in trouble for "throwing" another paper. I didn't realize we needed it and put it in the recycling, but the teacher saw it and told me to keep it, so I put it under my seat, and it fell through the bars of my chair basket while I wasn't looking, and she was mad at me for it. I also told my math teacher to "stop harassing me" because every 5 minutes she was hounding me about completing some work I had no intention of doing. That mistake was damn near fatal because, for some reason, I wasn't allowed to feel harassed, and telling my teacher that was apparently way out of pocket. I should also mention I had good grades up until I eventually began failing them.
All of this leads to more violent abuse. I was shoved into a wall, which hurt my arm so bad I needed an ice pack (and had to lie to the nurse about why I needed it). The next day, I was repeatedly hit with a broom, picked up by my collar, and slammed into walls before being thrown on the ground. The physical pain would subside in hours, but because what was done and said to me never left, I would almost always be left to sit and stare alone with my thoughts, and because of this, my mental state would degrade rapidly. Nothing else could bring me to tears like the pain of the person responsible for your entire life, who was supposed to love you unconditionally, constantly tormenting you. Her words would pierce and sting, while the same thing said to me by anyone else would roll off me like water off a duck's back.
Unable to escape the constant beratement, and depending on the severity, this would send me into suicidal spirals, and when I hit emotional rock bottom and couldn't feel any worse about myself, it was the only thing I looked forward to and all I thought about for months. When people asked me, "NT (Me), what are you going to be when you grow up?" or "NT, you're getting older. Have you thought about what you're going to do when you reach x (usually 18+) years old?" I had no idea, no answer. In my mind, living to be older than 16 seemed impossible. They were right when they said time would fly by. Back at school, the stress was getting to me. During a random game of Uno, I broke down and expressed some of my feelings, along with the fact that I was almost getting my ass beat with random objects on a weekly basis.
This ultimately led to no improvements in my life, just more people in my business. The process of them trying to help was akin to getting a law passed, full of procedures and red tape they had to follow because there was no physical evidence—I had no cuts, bruises, or wounds they could see. All they had to go on was the testimony of an emotionally disturbed preteen. They recommended I be placed in a mental hospital. I stayed after school while they called my dad to pick me up, and the car ride was silent until we arrived at the hospital. He asked, "Do you want to go in?" I said, "Yeah," and he couldn't figure out why he said I had it easy as a child. Because all I had to worry about was school and I had no bills to pay, I shouldn't have any reason to kill myself. I was essentially overreacting to him. So we went home.
Because I'm about to enter the next arc of my story. I'll share some extra fun facts that aren't directly related to the story, but I'd be remiss if I didn't. Our principal told us we had too many students for what the building was originally intended for. One day, while walking up the narrow stairs in between a crowd of kids rushing for their lockers, I was knocked over and trampled. I had at least two feet up my ass, one in my back, and one on top of my head, and I couldn't get up because no one could see me. Not long after, a teacher had to stop them from walking up the stairs so I could get up. When I got to my locker, the person whose locker was next to mine casually mentioned the trampling, and to be honest, it had only happened 30 seconds before, so I was pretty blown when she said that (I looked at her like, yeah, ambiguous individual, that was me y'all were just stepping on) and I told her, "Yeah, that was me." But let's not forget the time two of my classmates were fucking around playfighting and threw each other in such a way that the dude kicked me in the face. I sat in the same spot on the wall while waiting for my teacher, and, believe it or not, lightning does strike twice, because they were fucking around again and kicked me in the face in nearly the same way. This was an advisory class we had only once a week, and to make a long story even longer, I learned not to sit next to that wall anymore.
I began high school at the age of 14 and remained largely unchanged during this time. I still couldn't talk to anyone and dealt with the stress of going home to my mom, which significantly impacted how I behaved and how my grades would turn out at first. I had almost all A's before spiraling downward; at that point, I stopped caring what others thought of me and did whatever I could to make myself feel better. I would sleep in hallways on the floor, skip class, and do little to no work. I couldn't concentrate and wasn't worried about the consequences of my decisions until I graduated. The food in my house would run short, and my mom always told me if I ate it all before she went back to the grocery store, she wouldn't buy any more. I started skipping meals and eating less per meal to stretch the food we had, and at times I couldn't move without being doubled over in pain.
I was confined to my room almost constantly. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere but school, a couple of nearby restaurants, and back home. I couldn't leave my house if I wanted to hang out with friends (if only I had any) because I had to be in her presence at all times. I hypothesized about going to hang out with a female friend and was told I wouldn't be allowed to without her following behind us (I was 17 when I asked). If I wanted to hang out with a male friend, they had to go through a background check of sorts (it was easier to get a gun card than to get some friends I could hang with). I had to get their parents' phone numbers so she could talk to them, and then she would decide whether or not I could go, which wasn't even a guarantee. Imagine you're in school, and a kid who wants to be friends with you tells you they need your parents to talk to each other and give their permission. That's embarrassing. I would imagine I'd be laughed at and made fun of, or they wouldn't go through all the trouble for someone who was already known as an incredibly strange individual, so most of the time I never tried out of fear of this.
I had no way to cope surrounded by people, and knowing what some of them might think of me, I would put my head down for weeks in every class because at this point I was genuinely terrified of people. I had developed selective mutism and would not talk to 98 percent of students and about 80 to 90 percent of staff; when I did, it was in short, vague sentences and almost only when spoken to. Up until I was 15, the abuse continued the same as before, but as I got older, it became more Physical I had mostly stopped getting hit with belts, and when I did get hit, it was in the arm and chest, with the occasional hit in the mouth. I'd be backed into a corner while my mother yelled the most vile and hurtful things at me. I was told I ruined her life and that I kept her from having a life. If I ever lost my keys, I would immediately be in trouble, but if I lied about it, that was even worse. My mom worked from home before it was cool to work from home, so she was almost constantly home. If I had lied about having my keys, I would have been locked out of the house for hours until she finished working, rain or shine; snowing and cold; hot and humid; it didn't matter. But that mostly stopped when the damage it did to me became apparent, and I had a psychotic episode.
My mother was upset with me for some reason and was yelling loudly about how worthless I was, that she wished I was never born, and so on. (At this point, I was the most miserable I'd been in a long time. My mental state was comparable to the fragility of a ceramic plate: solid, sturdy, and functional. Just pray to God you don't drop it if you'd like it to remain intact.) I became late because I had misplaced my hat, but when I told her I had it in my pocket, she said, "Let me see it then; why is it not on your head? Put it on!" So I began looking for my hat in my bookbag, and when I found it, she snatched it from my grasp and smacked me on the head with it. I felt something click inside me, like a light switch being turned on. Without warning, I began having a psychotic breakdown. I put my hands on my head and started screaming as loud as I could uncontrollably, "I can't take it! I can't take it anymore," repeatedly while frantically shuffling like a chicken with its head cut off in front of my mom. I had no control over my actions, and my mother stopped me and pulled my hands off my head, but I wouldn't stop screaming, and she had to calm me down in order for me to stop. It was terrifying for the both of us because I think it was the first time she had ever seen anything like that, and it was the first time I ever did anything like that. The feeling was terrifying almost indescribable the closest comparison I could make is to the tea cup scene from get out. I felt like I got yanked out my body while simultaneously remaining in there like my soul was trapped behind my eyes and all I could do is watch.
After that experience, my mother began to soften her stance toward me, and the big 19 began, so I had virtual classes for about two years that I never finished, but I persevered and eventually graduated (while failing a significant number of classes), and when I did, I was enrolled in an alternative school. When I was eighteen, me and my mom got into an argument because I didn't want to go back to school. It was boring and sad because there were only two or three kids in my class, and we did elementary school work all day. There were no phones, we had to wear uniforms, and free time was scarce. The only slightly good part was that we worked a couple hours a day and they paid us. But it was only four dollars an hour, and we worked two hours each day unless you were in the special work program, which meant you worked two extra hours after school. With the long cab ride there, I'd get home around 5:30 to 6:00 every day, only to wake up at 8 a.m. and do it all over again. But we agreed that if I found a job before school resumed, I wouldn't have to go. I had a week and a half to do it.
I applied everywhere and even made it all the way through orientation at one place, but I was in a factory doing 12 hour shifts and about 4 miles from my house, so I turned it down because I was scared and had to be realistic because walking multiple miles through areas I'd never been to daily was just too much for me. I was told I had to leave if I wasn't working or going to school, and I couldn't stay the night. I was kicked out after calling my grandparents, who said I could stay with them. I packed two weeks worth of clothes and walked over there. The first few weeks were weird, but I finally saw the light at the end of the world's darkest and longest tunnel. For the first time in years, I knew what it was like to not be abused and verbally assaulted on a daily basis. But, unfortunately, I was beyond repair, at least on my own. I searched for a job and tried to enroll in college, but I was never taught or allowed to do that growing up. I was raised indoors and was never taught the skills needed to survive outside. I still didn't know how to talk to people, and I was terrified of them. I would have panic attacks a couple times a month and rely on others to feed and clothe me. I was wearing the same two weeks worth of clothes for several months until my great-grandmother sent me more.
Around this time I started smoking weed, and it was amazing how those first times getting high were the best and made me forget all about my problems and truly relax. But I didn't know what I was getting into and developed an exponentially growing habit. I started taking fake Xanax and getting slumped while I went about my day high as a kite. Just to forget about the majority of what I did the following day. The only reason my Xan problem didn't get out of hand was that I kept losing all of the pills after a few times, so I stopped buying them. But it was too late when I exhausted the small amount I had and began withdrawing. Let me tell you, like anyone else who has dealt with Xan withdrawals will tell you, they are not to be played with; hell isn't even a good enough comparison. It's something I truly wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. (My mom excluded.) I had severe paranoia, extreme agitation, a splitting headache that wouldn't quit, and panic attacks frequently (plus a strong urge to KMS as well, which is normal at this point). But I was lucky: Xanax is the only drug that can kill you by going cold turkey, and if your body became physically dependent, you were more than likely to have multiple seizures coming your way.
My replacement for Xanax was fake Mallinckrodt pills, aka dirty 30s, blues, perc 30s, or whatever name you used or knew they were synonymous with fentanyl or worse. (Believe me when I say they most definitely make things worse than fent) I'm confident I got worse because they didn't test positive for fent, which means its something the test couldn't detect. I turned full junkie and was smoking them off foil before I was 19. I overdosed twice going to sleep, and I was never confident if I was going to wake up. The opioid withdrawals are 100x easier than the Xans, and I was smoking drugs stronger than fentanyl. I quit those, and not too long after, I was taking fake ecstasy pills and Molly capsules, which, aside from the slight stimulant psychosis and vomiting, were probably my favorites. They let me experience happiness for the first time and gave me the ability to communicate and interact with other people. It felt like I'd been missing something my entire life.
Now I'm 19 on the cusp of being a broke "adult" with no real skills, aspirations, or anything positive going for him. This year I discovered while in high school I was diagnosed with autism, ADHD, ODD, social anxiety disorder, and antisocial personality disorder, all while attending school, and nobody ever told me or hinted at it to me in the slightest at all. I guess they just wanted me to cruise through life ignorant and struggling. I'm constantly reminded of how much of a burden I am because I can't do much more than take care of myself. I hide it somewhat well due to my lifelong fear of being mistaken for insane, but it takes an enormous amount of effort to even get out of bed and make something to eat. In order to keep the invasive thoughts and feelings away, I have to keep myself entertained and amused all day or else the feelings come rushing back. I honestly hate my life. I have little to look forward to and regret my almost entire life due to me ruining any chance at fun I had growing up because of how I behaved. I can barely leave my house, and if I go anywhere beyond a couple of blocks, I have panic attacks and get extreme anxiety that effects me physically. I feel my ability to comprehend and understand things slowing down. It's harder to focus and pay attention, and I feel almost like an alien when I'm around other people.
Recently, I had a phone call with my mom and had a panic attack (we haven't spoken in 2 years since I was put out). It was just like old times, when she was mad at me about a misunderstanding and was yelling and screaming about how I don't care that I'm wasting her money. (she bought my phone as a gift on a payment plan when I turned 18) As an adult I felt extremely disrespected by the things she said so before my mental health suffered anymore I hung up mid sentence and blocked her. The next day my phone was bricked and completely unusable, as it was technically not paid for, so somebody had to get me a new phone. Today I feel extremely hopeless towards any chance of repairing my life. I don't know what to do and I wish I did. I wish I could shake this dead man walking feeling I've got. Throughout the day, life doesn't even feel real at times. I feel as though if I keep hanging in there, eventually someone's going to find me hanging from somewhere. I don't know how my relatives do it. I could never imagine being their age. This isn't everything that's ever happened to me (I know it's hard to believe), but I feel I've described my story as concisely as possible in a semi-chronological order. Anything else would just be extra or I'd be repeating myself. With all that being said, my think noodle is hurting, and I think (clearly I do too much of this) I need to find it some dopamine. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read this fully because, as God knows, I can't tell a living soul who knows me this. Night. -NT

This strikes me as a very achievable goal for finally introducing proper rail transit to the Detroit metro area, but I'm looking for other opinions on potential issues or flaws. I'll include some streetview links and wiki articles for additional context. All of this plan utilizes existing rail infrastructure and would only require 4 potential new stations out of 11 total (though others may need rebuilds).
Half of this service, the Ann Arbor-Detroit segment, has been proposed before and is still included in the RTA's aspirational plans. MDOT owns this stretch of track. Original estimates for this service anticipated $130M in capital costs and $11-19M/yr to run 8 trains per day. Personally, I think that frequency should be doubled, but I'm unaware of how that might conflict with freight.
The other half of this service, Detroit-Pontiac, is a former SEMTA commuter line, but the tracks are currently owned by freight companies and would need to be acquired by the state for proper reliability.
The entire stretch between Pontiac-Ann Arbor is part of Amtrak's Wolverine service to Chicago.
* = added station
Going down the list..
Ann Arbor would use the existing Amtrak station site, but would likely need a proper transit center replacement. A second track might also need to be added to Ypsilanti. This station is about a 10-15 minute walk to downtown and 20 minute walk to UM's central campus.
Ypsilanti would reuse the defunct Depot Town freight house. This station is a 10 minute walk to downtown and a 15 minute walk to Eastern Michigan University.
Canton\* would be a simple park and ride platform and lot. There is vacant land next to the track at Haggerty Road.
Wayne/DTW\* would be a major stop at Detroit's international airport, Delta's second busiest hub. This stretch of the line overlaps with Amtrak Wolverine, a proposed HSR between Chicago and Toronto, and a proposed HSR connecting SE Michigan to Lansing and Grand Rapids. Unfortunately, this track is about 4 miles north of the actual airport grounds, and would require a transfer for passengers. I'm thinking of a rail connection similar to Phoenix's Sky Train, with direct access to both terminals and a stop or two for car rentals/parking north of the airport. Note that the previous proposals for this service planned for a simple shuttle bus connection between the airport and station.
Dearborn would use the already-operational Amtrak station. This stop is just a few minutes walk from downtown, and just steps from the largest indoor-outdoor museum complex in America.
Detroit's station would use the Amtrak site in the New Center area (sort of a secondary business district). MDOT is already planning for a new multimodal transit center here, but has not announced any specific details. Unfortunately, direct rail access to downtown Detroit no longer exists, but visitors could transfer to the streetcar line or other transit.
Hamtramck\* would need a new station. Would this site be workable? It's about a 10 minute walk to the main strip in Hamtramck, which is Michigan's densest municipality.
Fairgrounds\* is an important transfer site for city and suburban buses, though I'm unsure of whether or not a station here would work in the first place.
Royal Oak would use the existing Amtrak station in the heart of its downtown.
Birmingham/Troy would use the existing Amtrak station, though it's not in a very walkable area.
Pontiac would use the existing Amtrak station/transit center. It's less than 10 minutes walk to the downtown.
So my questions are..
How much would something like this cost? Roughly. Both the capital costs of new stations and some track, but also annual operations assuming 16 departures per day or more.
How feasible would that level of frequency be with shared freight traffic?
Are any of these stations not feasible?
I know no one here can answer this without a proper study, but I'll take any insights on how viable this might be. I can try to answer any questions!
Blue = heavy rail service. Red = airport rail connection + downtown streetcar

So, Im a SAHM with 2 little ones (2yr and 7mo) and I had a rough pregnancy with both. Since my 2yo was born, my spouse has been making me feel guilty for asking him to keep an eye out so I could get dinner done (SO will literally sit and be loudly hungry if I don’t cook) and will also make comments about how as a parent I don’t get to have sick days or breaks when I ask for an hour to myself in the evening or when I ask to sleep in on the weekends so I can catch up on sleep.
I’m expected to accommodate his sleep and sick time though. And for the most part it’s easy enough for me to be up at night with the baby during the week since I can sleep in for a little bit during the day as long as I’m up in time for my 2yo to have brunch.
A couple weeks ago I got really sick. Not “the big one” but definitely something nasty and it knocked me down pretty hard. I was able to make it through the week and I told SO that I needed to take one day of the weekend to just sleep until I woke up so I could hopefully get better as fast as possible.
The weekend came and not only did SO not take care of the kids worth a sh*t, he also complained the whole time about how I was sleeping all day and I needed to be up to make sure the kids had food and he needs time to ride his motorcycle. So I got up and took care of the kids with only an extra hour of sleep on top of my usual 6. And this isn’t the first time he’s been like this, this was just the most he had complained about watching them.
So tonight I get a message from him that he’s not feeling well and it’s probably the same thing I had. So I told him to take meds and suck it up and that if he wanted any sympathy or empathy from me he was going to have to give sympathy to me first because my reserves are empty. Now he’s saying I’m being irrational.
edit 1: paragraph breaks for readability

When I first watched Heathers: The Musical, believe it or not, I fucking hated Heather Duke. My favourite character back then was Heather Chandler, because she’s a mythic bitch. Then, I realised I hated Heather Duke because she was too much like me.
But that’s not the point. My point is, Heather Duke is considered by many to be an extremely hatable character. The purpose of this essay is not to convince you to like Heather Duke more; it is just to defend some of her actions, as stated in the title. Though many of Heather Duke’s actions were inexcusable, she is ultimately one of Heather Chandler’s victims; an example of the victim becoming the bully. Most of this essay is written with the Off-Broadway production in mind, as well as the movie.

Heather Duke has a personality

Let’s start from the very beginning. While it is true that we have about 2 hours of musical content and 1 hour and 44 minutes of movie content to go off of, as well as deleted scripts, much can be gathered regarding Heather Duke’s personality.
Veronica describes Duke as having ‘no discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants’. It is proven further on in the musical that yes, Duke does have a personality; a personality is defined by the Oxford dictionary as the combination of characteristics or qualities that form an individual's distinctive character. Duke is far from having no discernible personality; hell, you could even argue that Duke is the most in-depth character in Heathers.
The most prominent example of this is Duke’s interaction with JD before ‘Kindergarten Boyfriend’, Duke immediately knowing that “I now know thee, thou clear spirit” is from Moby Dick, and that’s not even the whole quote. Duke is shown to be an avid reader in the movie as well; reading Moby Dick even while playing croquet and in early drafts of the script, referencing The Catcher in the Rye (“Yeah, you know Holden Caulfield in The Catcher in the Rye wouldn’t put up with their bogus nonsense.”).
I read The Catcher in the Rye recently, and it’s a coming-of-age novel from an unreliable narrator perspective. The main character, Holden Caulfield, has a very warped worldview, classifying people as ‘phonies’, smoking and drinking while underage, his most notable trait being his red hunting cap; a physical manifestation of his different thinking and uniqueness from others. I interpret Duke liking this novel as her relating heavily with its themes of angst and alienation, often picturing herself as being alienated from the Heathers; with Chandler shown to treat McNamara better than her, and even treats Veronica better than her (to an extent). And as another Reddit user mentioned, curiosity is a sign of intelligence; her willingness to seek new information such as books makes her an extremely intelligent character (even managing to find a quote from a book with 135 chapters immediately).
I almost forgot to add how Duke runs the yearbook; and running a yearbook committee requires qualities such as good leadership abilities, good teamwork skills as well as a high level of creativity. High schools do not just let random people run their yearbook committees; unless Duke bribed the faculty to give her the position or intimidated the student body into electing her as yearbook committee head. In the movie, there’s a scene that Dennis, Peter and a random girl are discussing the yearbook regarding Chandler’s suicide, and the fact that Duke is allowing it to be included in the yearbook (as the head, despite not being in the scene itself) shows that not only is she a somewhat competent head, she also knows what’s best for the yearbook and what isn’t.
Duke comes up with many snarky remarks throughout the musical, some taken directly from the movie version of Chandler (“What? It’ll give her shower nozzle masturbation material for weeks!”) which implies how she models her behaviour after her though she does come up with her fair share of snarky remarks herself (“We all didn’t kiss on the kickball field!”, “Here comes the cootie squad! We should-“, et cetera).
Duke is insecure, described in the Off-Broadway script as being ‘the whipped beta dog of the three Heathers. Deeply insecure.’ A good example to show her insecurity is in the OOBC bootleg of ‘Beautiful’ on YouTube (Alice Lee is an amazing Heather Duke), when she tells Veronica “Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds.” she grips her stomach area, heaving deeply as if she’s disgusted by herself, reflecting her insecurities on Veronica, but regains her composure quickly. Another Reddit user pointed out how Duke seems to adjust the bottom of her blazer after being placed in a situation out of her control; and control is a very important aspect of her character, which I will also be going into when talking about her eating disorder. After Duke gets SA’d by Ram in ‘Big Fun’ and suspended by Mrs. Fleming after ‘Lifeboat’, she readjusts the bottom of her blazer, and I do think this is symbolic; reminding her that after everything, the one thing she has control over is her body and her weight, which is why she specifically readjusts the area of her blazer covering her stomach.
Lastly, Duke is the only character in canon confirmed to have a disorder; bulimia nervosa. While some of you may argue that “JD has antisocial personality disordePTSD!” or “Veronica is depressed!” they are not confirmed. The diagnostic criterion for bulimia nervosa in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition (DSM-V) are:

• Recurrent episodes of binge eating
• Recurrent inappropriate compensatory behaviors in order to prevent weight gain (like purging)
• The binge eating and inappropriate compensatory behaviour both occur on average at least once a week for 3 months
• Self-evaluation is unduly influenced by body shape and weight
• Disturbances do not occur during episodes of anorexia nervosa

While Duke’s bulimia is mentioned only once throughout the whole musical in ‘Beautiful’, and twice in the movie where it is shown that she started to make an attempt to normally after Chandler’s death (no, you can’t recover from bulimia instantly), it shows a lot about her character. The act of binge eating itself has a sense of lack of control, as stated in the DSM-V. It goes so far that during binges, individuals tend to eat foods they would otherwise avoid; continuing until they are uncomfortably full. The DSM-V states that experiencing multiple stressful life events can precipitate onset of bulimia, and bulimics tend to be ashamed of their eating problems, which can be triggered through multiple factors like interpersonal stressors, negative feelings related to body weight and body shape, boredom, et cetera.
Why am I telling you all this? Because Duke’s bulimia is a product of her insecurity. Heather Duke hates the way she looks; if she didn’t, her mom wouldn’t have paid for implants. Also, the minimum age to get breast implants in the USA is 18; implying that Duke’s mother and Duke got it through illegal means. Heather Duke mafia arc?! Bulimia is also seen by bulimics to be a way to maintain control over their own body. They believe that even if they can’t control anything else around them, they still have complete control over their own body; which is what leads to the development of an eating disorder. Duke wants control; shown by her jealousy of Chandler as well as her taking initiative to obtain the red scrunchie in the musical after Chandler’s death. When Duke doesn’t have control, she uses unhealthy coping mechanisms like her bulimia and phrases to reassure herself (like when JD blackmails her, she says “Nobody cares about the past. Nobody cares about Martha Dumptruck.” and it has a vengeful, angsty intonation to it; as if she’s saying it to reassure herself, perhaps?).
In conclusion, Heather Duke has a personality. She is highly intelligent, snarky, insecure, aching for control over her own life and the lives of others’. Which leads me to my next point.

Heather Chandler’s abuse

Many people speculate that Chandler is an asshole to Duke because she knows that Duke will go batshit crazy on McNamara if Duke gets the power (like she did after ‘Lifeboat’) and hence keeps Duke on a tight leash. In actuality, she does not just keep Duke on a tight leash. She abuses Duke, both physically and mentally. Chandler’s physical assault is shown in ‘Candy Store’, before her riff where Duke wails vocal ad-lib and Chandler fucking pushes her. It has come to the point where people don’t compare how good each individual Chandler’s riff is, rather, people compare how far each individual Duke gets pushed. Under no circumstances should you ever push someone to the ground, let alone your friend or someone who is part of your clique. That’s called bullying.
And if I could list every single instance that Chandler mentally/verbally abuses Duke, I’d be here all day. Which I already am. Some examples include:

• “Grow up, Heather. Bulimia is so ‘87.” Not only does Chandler not show a conscious effort to help Duke recover from her eating disorder, she mocks it, ridiculing Duke for being immature (as implied by Chandler’s words) in front of McNamara. Also, fun fact, excessive purging can lead to death. Either Chandler is extremely indifferent and couldn’t give 2 shits if Duke died or is ignorant of what bulimia is. In which case she is still an extremely shitty friend for not trying to help Duke.
• Chandler tells Duke to shut up a total of 4 times in the musical (first time in ‘Beautiful’, “How about prescriptions?” “Shut up, Heather!” second time before ‘Candy Store’, “What? It’ll give her shower nozzle masturbation material for weeks!” “Shut up, Heather!” third time during ‘Candy Store’ before the riff, “Woah! Honey, what you waiting for-“ “Shut up, Heather!” and last time during ‘Big Fun’, “Here comes the cootie squad! We should-“ “Shut up, Heather!”). And Chandler is alive for a grand total of 42 minutes. Notice that every time Chandler tells her to shut up, Duke always replies with a meek “Sorry, Heather…” (except for during ‘Candy Store’ because Duke’s on the floor but there’s a recording of Jessica Keenan Wynn, Elle McLemore and Kristolyn Lloyd performing the song at a Barnes and Noble where after Jessica as Chandler tells Kristolyn as Duke to shut up, she replies with a hasty “Sorry, Heather!”) which shows how Chandler has basically beaten this poor girl down into submission, silencing her and giving her no right to speak or even have an opinion. Which brings me on to my next instance.
• “You’ll need something to write on. Heather, bend over.” Chandler literally makes Veronica use Duke as a table. In the movie, there is literally a table right behind them; and in a deleted script, both McNamara and Duke bend over, and Chandler makes Duke go back down. The fact that in both the movie and the musical, Duke does it with zero protesting shows that she was acclimatised to her position as Chandler’s metaphorical (and literal) punching bag.
• “I am talking to my friend.” This is in the West End production, where Chandler directly addresses Duke after she says “You were totally throwing your panties at him!” to Veronica. Even within the Heathers, there’s a hierarchy at play; Chandler’s tone of voice is extremely condescending, addressing her as if she’s a dog or an insolent, disobedient kid. Which Duke immediately ‘steps back in line’ and responds with a “Sorry, Heather…”
• During ‘Big Fun’, after Veronica saves Duke’s ass (both metaphorically and literally) from Ram, Duke approaches Chandler who throws her hands up and gives her a patronising look. Even after being sexually harassed by Ram, and even after calling out (“Quit it jackass, get off of me!”), Chandler refuses to offer Duke help; leading to her responding to Veronica’s offers of help with spite and anger from being thrown aside by Chandler (“I didn’t need your help.”).
• “Heather Duke was such a sad little poser. Veronica, tell her to stop touching my stuff.” While this is arguable because this is Chandler’s ghost and it’s implied that Chandler’s ghost is a manifestation of Veronica’s guilt, it shows that even Veronica would subconsciously know that Chandler would say this about Duke. Chandler’s treatment of Duke is so bad to the point of Veronica knowing exactly what Chandler would say about Duke in that situation.

This is way too much for a 17 year old to handle. When Chandler says “Grow up, Heather. Bulimia is so ‘87.”, it’s also implying that they knew each other since/before 1987. Which is even more fucked up considering Duke has been constantly taking abuse from Chandler for 2 years or more. The worst part is, if Duke wants to remain a Heather, she can’t do anything. And she’s not allowed to do anything. Or she’d become an ex-somebody, and we all knew the consequences of that in the actual musical. After 2 years (or more) of suffering, what do you think Duke would do? It’s human instinct to feel like shit if you were abused like this. And instead of getting swallowed up by her pain like McNamara did, what did Duke do? Lash out at others. But before I go into that, I’ll go into a small sub-section.

Heather McNamara’s ignorance

Heather McNamara is not an innocent cinnamon roll. She is equally as bad as every other Heather; just that she is redeemable. As Janis Ian/Sarkisian once said, “There are two kinds of evil people in this world. Those who do evil stuff and those who see evil stuff being done and don't try to stop it.” And it is safe to say that McNamara falls under both categories.
She doesn’t try to stop Duke or protect Veronica when Duke spreads the rumor that Veronica had a threesome with Kurt and Ram; instead, she actively encourages it! In Blue (Reprise), she sings “I hope she rinsed it!” and actively joins in the singing in the West End production’s ‘Never Shut Up Again’.
Heather McNamara is a follower. She’s a lot like someone I know; she follows what the most influential person wants, and goes with it. After Chandler died, it was Duke. And before Chandler died… you guessed it!
You may argue that McNamara told Duke “Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather.” but that is kind of a given…? Someone with bulimia, as stated earlier, would not be open about their eating disorder at all. That is extremely shitty advice to give someone. She could’ve agreed with Duke, could’ve stood up for her or at least tried to interact with her or help her up when she was pushed down; but she didn’t (I think in the West End production she did? I’m not sure either; it looked more as if she was pushing Duke into place which is an even more asshole move to do). Naturally, Duke would associate McNamara as one of the people who wronged her, as well as Chandler. And when McNamara poured her heart out to TV cameras during ‘Lifeboat’… well…

Justifying Heather Duke’s actions

…Heather Duke was not having it. Many people take notice of the “And every morning on the bus I feel my heart beating louder and faster and I’m like ‘Jesus, I’m on the freaking bus again because all my rides to school are dead…’” and then they look at Duke’s line in ‘Candy Store’ (“And get in my Jeep!”) which could be interpreted many different ways. And I like to think that Duke walks to school because bulimics tend to overexercise in order to lose weight (especially considering Heathers occured in a relatively short time frame), but as I said, it could be interpreted many different ways. Bulimics typically have to go through cognitive behavioural therapy (or they can just… recover from their own, but it takes time) but that’s not the point. My point is, Duke didn’t necessarily refuse to pick McNamara up. It’s just a theory. A musical theory.
After ‘Lifeboat’, where McNamara is stuck in a trance-like state, Duke rushes towards her, confronting her. And here’s where everyone forgets that the TV cameras are still recording; why would Duke yell at someone who is suicidal on TV cameras? She wants control. She craves positive attention. The last thing that Duke would do would be to make herself seem like an asshole on national television. The whole sequence seemed as if it was out of rage and pent-up anger more than anything; it was almost immediate after ‘Lifeboat’ ended. Her tone was not dissimilar to Chandler’s before ‘Dead Girl Walking’; both extremely indignant. And here’s where some people also forget that ‘Shine a Light (Reprise)’ happened in McNamara’s head and Duke didn’t actually tell her to go kill herself. I interpret ‘Shine a Light (Reprise)’ not just as McNamara imagining Duke telling her to kill herself, but subconsciously encouraging herself to kill herself. Why would Duke use Mrs. Fleming’s song? In essence; Duke lashed out at McNamara in rage. It seemed more of an outburst rather than a premeditated action.
Sure, I can’t justify Duke spreading the rumor about Veronica having a threesome. I admit that Duke is an asshole for doing that. Which is why I like her. What I can somewhat justify is Duke usurping Chandler’s position as head bitch.
Duke had always been in Chandler’s shadow; and in this case, always been beaten up by Chandler. Naturally, what she’d want to do is issue a final “fuck you” to Chandler by firstly, usurping her position, her red scrunchie, raiding her locker, and blowing her boyfriend (I believe that’s in a deleted part of the movie script where she blows David. But people with EDs typically don’t participate in sexual activities because of their body image issues). Duke wanted to take what Chandler didn’t give her, and she wanted to make others feel how Chandler made her feel. Her actions were out of vengeance and rage.
After ‘Kindergarten Boyfriend’, Duke attempts to get Veronica and McNamara to sign the petition, and when Veronica tells her that “We were avoiding you.”, Duke lets out a gasp of bewildered betrayal. This implies that Duke didn’t understand the consequences of her actions (which again, I can imply that Chandler did it to her so many times that she thinks it’s okay) which is so fucking sad. Which also further leads me to believe that Duke lashed out at McNamara out of rage.

Conclusion

The saddest thing about Heather Duke is that in the Off-Broadway production, she does not achieve a happy ending. She is the only living character in the musical to not have a happy ending (JD reunited with his mom in heaven, Veronica, Martha and McNamara reconcile, the school as a whole reconciled) and instead goes back to being a nobody. She joins a random group and sings with them, showing how it’s so tragic that she didn’t even get to keep what she wanted for so long. Though, in the West End production, she reunites with McNamara and Veronica. But I don’t really like that ending because after what Duke did, I wouldn’t see McNamara and Veronica forgiving her, especially since Duke said that Martha was “Just another geek trying to imitate the popular kids and failing miserably.”
Heather Duke’s actions can’t be fully excused, but she isn’t inherently bad; I believe that her actions were mostly out of vengeance. And that is so relatable. What the fuck.
I like to think that after the events of Heathers, Heather Duke and Heather McNamara went to therapy together, explaining their actions and pushing past their past grievances and turning their trauma bond into a true friendship. But again, it never happened. Unless I write a fanfic about it.
If you’re reading this, thank you for coming to my TedTalk. And I’m so happy you managed to read through my Heather Duke essay. She just like me fr

"Maria Pallante, the head of Association of American Publishers, in a statement said the ruling "underscored the importance of authors, publishers, and creative markets in a global society. Anchored by Foxconn, or Hon Hai Precision Industry Co. , Apple’s manufacturing presence in China has been broad and unshakable for over two decades. "With Gordon gone, almost all of my first generation semiconductor colleagues are gone," Chang said in a statement released via TSMC. The meetings, along with his attendance at the event, are crucial as Cook seeks to maintain a mutually beneficial relationship with the Chinese government. PTTEP didn’t immediately respond to a request for comments. PTTEP also holds 80% economic interest in a field in Myanmar called Zawtika, with MOGE owning the remaining 20%. "It sure is nice to be at the right place at the right time," Moore said in an interview around 2005. She said one patient was transferred to another facility, but provided no other details. Berks County fire crews remained on the scene Friday night. Both credit assessors rate the country as B-, one level higher than Moody’s score. The bank last reported holdings for Feb. 8, when $372 million of its $3. 5 billion in reserves was in dollars. Part of the "traitorous eight," they departed in 1957 to launch Fairchild Semiconductor. Posco Holdings said in an email that it’s closely monitoring the situation as the US hasn’t announced any additional sanctions against Myanmar. last year to take over Myanmar’s Yadana offshore gas field after TotalEnergies SE and Chevron Corp. pulled out in protest of junta’s violence against civilians. The US State Department didn’t immediately respond to an emailed request for comment. Experts say the court's eventual ruling could have far-reaching implications on abortion rights across Latin America. (Adds new sanctions against Myanmar in final paragraph. It's been a phenomenal ride. Chinese President Xi Jinping has repeatedly said that he wants to boost high-end manufacturing. --With assistance from Debby Wu and Mark Gurman. "I was very fortunate to get into the semiconductor industry in its infancy. "The president is fine. The company now counts on Greater China for about 20% of its sales. - Alpha AI

Hey all, grabbed a decent bike and looking to get into cycling this season with the intent to get into some crit races next year. Hoping to get involved with some group rides in the latter part of the season once i build some fitness and comfort with my bike. Are there any resources or discord/communities that organize group rides?

After some googling this seems to be an appropriate subreddit to post to
Anywho ive got a 2011 Husqvarna YTH22V46 bought new and after sitting outside all winter it wont start. Im sure its electrical as i gave it a full tune up, Plugs, oil, filter, fuel filter and a very quick carb clean and charged the battery
So the starter solenoid isnt getting its "on" signal. If i flip the key to run and jump the solenoid the engine fires right up and runs. but it wont start by the key. Got a brand new ignition switch from the lawn care parts store and still no 12V at the solenoid low side when turning the key to start?!??
Jacks small engines has all the service info and im looking at the schematic for what i can start testing. Im a little suspect of the attachment and brake switches however.

Demographics

• Gender: Male
• Race/Ethnicity: African American
• Residence: NY
• School: Small Public School

Intended Major(s): Comp Sci / Engineering
SAT: 1520
UW/W GPA and Rank: 4.0 UW / 4.5W Rank: 8/220
Coursework: AP: Environmental Science, Physics I, Calculus AB, Statistics, World History Modern, Psychology, Biology, 5 Dual Enrollment Classes, All other classes Honors
Extracurriculars: 3 Year Varsity Football Player (Captain Senior year), 3 sport athlete all 4 years, Part time job junior and senior year, NHS, Many Honor Societies, and other Volunteer Clubs, Head of Tech at Church
Awards/Honors: Football All County, All Section HM, Local CC Black Achievement award (4x), Many sports awards, National Recognized Scholar, Principals list (2x), others
​
Still Waiting: Harvard, BU, Wesleyan, UMich
Acceptances:
Amherst College (Full Ride)
Boston College
Colgate University
Colorado College (Full Ride)
Cornell University
Northeastern University
Northwestern University (Full Ride)
SUNY Binghamton University
SUNY Stony Brook University
SUNY University at Buffalo
Swarthmore College (Full Ride)
Tufts University (Full Ride)
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
University of Virginia
University of Vermont
CU Boulder
Waitlist/Rejections:
None yet :)

I’ve had two Negronis tonight and I always spin into a bit of loneliness and depression when that happens. My cats are good at keeping me company, but it’s not the same as a person. Hoping to find someone fun and interesting to chat with today and into the future. I’ve met a few interesting people off of Reddit, but the connection tends to fade after a bit, so I figured I’d give this another shot to make some new connections.
I’m a 42m located in Minnesota near Minneapolis. I’ve lived here my entire life, other than the four years I spent in Wisconsin for school. I’m an electrical engineer and I work as an engineering manager for a consulting firm. I also just finished up a part-time MBA program at the end of last year, so I’m starting to have a bit more free time. I’m about 5’8”, brown hair and eyes, beard, and overweight, though I’ve been working on it with some significant progress. I have some photos on my profile.
When the weather is nice I enjoy getting outside for walks, hikes, and bike rides. Luckily the weather is starting to improve lately. I enjoy cooking and baking, reading, playing video games and board games, doing puzzles, and playing piano. I love animals and I have two cats, both of which are about a year to two years old. I also really enjoy traveling and went to Morocco for two weeks this past summer.
I’m looking for someone with similar interests who I click with, or someone who can challenge me to see the world in a different way. I spend most of my time alone at home and winter generally just makes the loneliness and isolation worse. I’m lonely and the last two years have been rough. Just looking for people to chat with about whatever.
Send me a note if any of this sounds interesting to you! Looking forward to meeting you!