Ms high school football scores

So I've been playing DnD with a group for about 7 years. We've done multiple campaigns together and currently have 4 campaigns running with slightly different groups. My bestfriend from high school was the DM for 2 of them and I was DM for the other 2. We both were players in each other's campaigns. A couple of them were small side projects we only play once every few weeks to months when we have the people. The other two were serious long term campaigns that we switch off playing after every arc so that we can give each other a chance to be a playeDM. It was a lot of fun. We were level 16 after over 2 years of playing his campaign and level 8 after a year in mine. For both these campaigns we only had 4 people in the group, me, my wife, my bestfriend, and his girlfriend (my wife's bestfriend). We were all really close and have been close for many years to the point that they moved halfway across the country with us when my wife had to leave for law school so we could all still be together.
My friend, who introduced us to DnD and was our main DM just got caught having an affair in which he lied to both my wife's best friend and the new girl he was seeing, who was an ex from high school. He kept this secret for over a year before his mistress found out about his girlfriend, they had been living together for almost 4 years, and threatened to tell her if he didn't. This all came out just this week and it has completely wrecked our group.
There are so many things that suck about this situation, but it also really sucks to lose these games that we have loved. My character in his latest campaign is my favorite I've ever played and I really felt like I was getting the hang of rping with him. It was our favorite thing to do together. It's hard to lose these stories that I truly loved and to know that we will never get an ending to any of them. We had been building a world together between the two campaigns and had mini adventures planned for our old characters and even one for their children. There is so much we are losing now because my friend was selfish and self destructive.
I have no idea when I will be able to play again, and I will probably have to become our new forever DM. My friend was always a better DM though. He was a great actor which makes sense that he had been lying to all of us so well for over a year.
I'm so heartbroken right now and will miss all the good times in this game. Will have to try to rebuild somehow.

everyone in John jay senior high school And all that I hope it happins in good karma to them and it ends as long as the school brings it to the end
And stuff ever studen government well setil on it and it will come to a end and we’re not alone with all the fighting in are lives

Well, I guess I should start at the beginning the majority of all stories tend to start. I was born in Detroit, Michigan in the month of June 1977. I was soon adopted and never met my biological family but have been told that I have two biological sisters, Karen, and Xinea as well as two brothers named Robert, and Jerry(perhaps Gerry I suppose). My mother is Patricia Bray, and my alleged father is Carl Ambers according to the adoption records that I found after the death of my adopted mother, Opal in 2001; I was a grown man by then. I was adopted by Opal and Frank Smith(we will say) in 1978. Somehow they knew my biological mother but that connection was never revelled to me. Opal was one of 17 children who grew up on a mountain somewhere in West Virginia. I was told that her father killed himself in front of her and her siblings when she was less than 10 years old. He was a coal miner and was injured in some type of accident and left unable to work with 19 mouths to feed; hard to fathom but for the love of God why in front of the children? Regardless of his reason this event left a lasting impact upon his 9 year old daughter that would ripple throughout space and time with the force of an atomic bomb; to this day that act and subsequent reaction linger. Opal was a devout Pentecost, Southern Baptist, or whatever similar religion she felt; not exactly sure. She was once a member of the People's Temple church in the early days when they were in Indianapolis (circa 1953-54). She left the church when the new leader, a man by the name of Jim Jones took over and began to allow people of other races into the fellowship; Opal being a woman of God as well as a devout racist left the church. They would later commit forced suicide in Ghana by drinking cyanide laced drinks at the end of machine guns. Opal was a small woman and she had many older brothers. She spent her developmental years fatherless, emotionally wrecked, and on a mountain with those brothers; I do not wish to even imagine what that must have been like, but one thing is for certain; she grew up mean and she knew how to fight, how to hurt a person, and how to use her 4' 11" 120lbs to do damage. Her temper was short and she was fast to react in a violent physical nature. She was married to Frank who was from Kentucky. Frank ran a laundry delivery service, smoked cigars, and loved pro wrestling. He was already in his forties when I was adopted as was Opal. Frank was amazing to me as a young child but as time went on he became isolated and didn't much bother with anything other than work. Looking back it is obvious he was terribly unhappy but that is unfortunately the theme of this story. I also had three adopted sisters that we shall call Kay, Mary, and Carry. All of whom were already 10 and older once I was brought into the household. The six of us lived in a two bedroom single bath home on the south side of Indianapolis. My earliest memory is literally the day that they brought me to their house; you may think that is crazy, a child less than a year old having a vivid memory but I swear to you I do. I remember being brought into the kitchen and being placed into a high chair with a pack of saltines....then a bath and to bed. For the first few years it seemed that we had a happy, perfect family. Frank made good money and so Opal stayed home and managed the house while watching me. I remember how nice she was at first but that would soon change, everything changed. The early eighties were a rough time economically and it showed. The stress of life really brought out the mean in Opal, she would fly off the handle in a millisecond flat. I was a very advanced child for my age and by pre-school I could count to 1000, read children's books myself, and I knew all my shapes and colors beyond the standard "circle, square, blue, red". My adopted parents were not very well educated and I think they were taken aback by the rate at which I absorbed information. It could not possibly be that this child simply has a thirst for knowledge and an ability to process things; it must be DEMONS...yep, folks, demons. From the time I was maybe 3 until I stopped speaking to Opal circa 1999 I was repeatedly told that I was "FULL OF DEMONS" as well as the everpopular"YOU ARE GOING TO HELL FOR _________" Now you can add whatever you wish to that blank up there because she sure did. I was going to hell for running in the house, catching insects, not going to bed on time, throwing rocks, playing with sticks, you name it, and he'll was fucking terrifying. I was taken to churches where people preached that the devil was not among us , but inside of us all!!! and as I watched them shake and scream and yell it honestly scared the shit out of me. Being a developing child and being told you are possessed by creatures from hell may have a lasting mental effect. Like many kids I began to rebel against and since I was full of demons I began to act accordingly. Things in the household spiraled downward like a toy boat circling an open drain. Opal was becoming aloof and isolated, coming from her bedroom only to cuss, complain, and rage. After the first few times getting my ass or face slapped up I learned to shut my mouth but unfortunately my older adopted sister Mary never got that lesson. She was about early high school age when I was adopted but I do not remember either of my two oldest sisters going to school at all. She like rock music of the time, she didn't dress appropriately, she was loud, and she did not listen to anything she was told. She was a typical teen girl in the 80's until she snuck out one night and some men snuck PCP into her drink. She had a bad reaction and seized, they just dumped her from the car onto a cold, dark Indianapolis street corner in the middle of a ghetto where she lay until found. She was rushed to the hospital where she died and was revived many time; luckily she lived, but she had went without oxygen and it left her with some mental impairment. She never really progressed past a teen mentality. I do not know if it was shame at her sneaking out with men and being discovered or the lingering mental illness but Opal had a fire for her like no other. They once had a shouting match over what Mary was wearing and after a few minutes Opal picked up an old golf wedge club that I had found and began to beat her savagely. I counted at least 30 shots before I got the courage to jump in from of her; I was maybe 8 years old. The following years would show a pattern of such actions with all four of us occasionally getting it but Mary and myself got the brunt of things...there were hot off the stove spatulas to bare skin, broomsticks, rake handles, and even the cast iron skillet with hot oil still inside. My father, having been introduced to Opal's violent nature knew better than to intervene, choosing to withdraw all together of the situation. Left to free rein Opal never missed an opportunity to abuse physically, or verbally. I remember being perhaps 9-10 years old and being as my parernts were way older I dressed like I was from the 60's,. Opal had since went to work at a metal polishing factory and I was left to the daily care of three teenage, adopted sister with no clue about basic hygiene so I smelled terrible and the stress of my violent home life had put weight on me other kids fucked with me hardcore. I had had a terrible day at school; my pants had ripped and all the other kids were laughing and calling me fatass and such literally all day long. So I get home finally and I totally break down into hesterical crying fits to which my "mother" responds to be yelling "BOY!!....WHAT IS ALL THE NOISE ABOUT!!?!" and through tears and in broken English I struggled to explain the events of the day and how all the kids said I "stink and that my clothes were trash and that I was too fat!!" and her caring response was to look me dead in my eyes and yell to me "YOU ARE FAT AND I AM NOT BUYING YOU NEW CLOTHES UNTIL YOU LOSE SOME WEIGHT!!" This event would truly cast a demon of hatred and anger deep into my soul that I would struggle to shake for the next 20 or more years. The next day at school, on recess a group of slightly younger children began to gather around me and began the usual verbal and physical harassment. As they had a few days previous they were attempting to set me up for that trick where one person gets down in a dog-like pose behind you while you are distracted and once in place the other push you over and everyone has a grand old laugh at your expense while you struggle to get your fat ass off the ground and get your wind back but that day I was not playing that shit and so when the little fucker ducked down behind me I immediately swung around with my right foot and landed a vicious snap kick directly to his eye socket; the sound of it breaking echoed the playground followed by painful wailing. It felt good to hear, it felt good to see the fear in the eyes of his friend's eyes, to send a message that I was no longer their victim or anyone else's for that matter. I started skipping school, vandalizing, petty theft, shoplifting, and anything other than wholesome which got me arrested for stealing CD's and Transformers from K-Mart. L.L. Cool J.....funny the shit you value when you look in retrospect. The ride home from the juvenile center on East 21st street was a long one and I was petrified of the beating that awaited me as new and different ways and items to beat the fuck from me danced in my head like those fucking sugar-plums from that stupid Christmas Song. When we finally got back to our house in Fountain Square I was directed into the kitchen where a length of 2/4 about 2 foot long waited on the kitchen table. Opal from behind me yelled out "BOY!!" which was what I was always referenced as as if I had no fucking name and when I did a 180 she belted me across my face with a hard right fist, but unlike every other time she hit me I did not scream out, cry, or even flinch from the blow. This further infuriated her and so she struck my face again to the same result, and again, and again until I firmly grabbed her right wrist at which point she immediately hit me with a hard left and I subsequently grabbed her left wrist. I was about 175lbs if not more and my strength overpowered her ability to strike me and when she realized that she could not move and seen in my eyes that this was not going to happen she began to scream "LET GO OF ME!!" to which I replied "I am going to let you go and when I do you are not going to fucking touch me in any way!!"...I let go, and defeated she walked away. After that she offered no real support other than a place to sleep. I began to steal clothing from people's clotheslines and after wearing the same pair of shoes for so long that my feet are literally deformed, I took a pair of Nikes off of someone's porch. Over the next few years I would have many more legal troubles, assaults, thefts, arsons until the State of Indiana stepped in and made me a ward of the state. I was sentenced and sent to a place called Glen Mills Schools in Concordville, Pennsylvania. It was supposed to be a fresh start and a chance to better myself and I was able to get my HSE, learn computer aided drafting, and I got to compete in powerlifting as well. It was the first time in my life I had seen a dentist even; I was 15 years old and finally I felt hopeful and happy; that would soon change.
If you would like to hear more please leave a comment or like. I also appreciate any feedback about my writing as I am not a professional in any way but always looking to improve my craft. If you made it this far; you are greatly appreciated.

Hey guys. I'm a 17 year old high-school student. I'm planning to pursue post secondary education, (general psychology, looking to go into sports psych) What are some things I could do to better prepare myself for university? Do you guys have any online courses, tips, websites, lectures, books, etc that you can recommend? Thank you!

Hi all, fairly new to Reddit, so please let me know if this is the right place to post. Warning- pretty long.
I was diagnosed with MS in 2012 when I was 38. I had weird vision issues, it felt like one eye wasn’t coordinating with the other. I could look at my classroom and see the students, but their faces were blurry. I couldn’t drive at night because of light tracers. Went through the normal ophthalmology channels and was referred to a neurologic ophthalmologist. He did a MRI just to be safe because there were no signs of optic neuritis. After my very first MRI, the nurse asked if this was my first, and said the doctor would call me the next day. I told her my doctor was leaving for a month and he said he’d follow up with me when he got back. The nurse said no, he would call me the next day. Surprise! You have MS and aren’t having acid flashbacks from the one time you took it at age 18.
Luckily, I was living in an amazing state with an impressive University medical center. My neurologist taught at the U and going to an appointment was like attending a class. He whipped out a sharpie and starting making amazing flow charts on the paper covering the exam table. He gave it to me at the end. Since the MRI showed active lesions, I took a super high dose of steroids. In the following 5 years, MRIs showed no new lesions, so I never started any medication. My brain developed new pathways and my vision cleared up.
In 2017, I decided to move home to Montana. After the fun experience of establishing care, I was given an absolutely wonderful neurologist in my large and growing city. He wasn’t an MS specialist, but there are only 2 in our state. At this point, I didn’t think I had MS since no new lesions in 5 years. So, I got an MRI here, and low and behold, new lesions. (Part of the reason is the MRI machine here is newer with better quality.) I was started on Copaxone. About 4 months after starting, I had a relapse and lost some mild functioning in my left hand. In addition, I started having problems with my vision again- same issue as before. Had a follow up MRI showing no new lesions. I was also under a ton of stress during that time. I’ve now figured out that when I get stressed, my brain “forgets” the new neural pathway and reverts to the old broken pathway.
So, I was struggling with high stress from my job and extreme exhaustion. He sent me for a sleep study and I was diagnosed with apnea and started using a C-Pap. No change on the exhaustion. They started me on Modafinil and it was a game changer. Over the next 2 years, I lost a significant amount of weight (in a healthy way). My next sleep study showed no apnea at all (yay!) but my oxygen levels dropped significantly when I slept. So now, I’m on oxygen when I sleep. My sleep doctor did some blood tests that showed my iron levels were low but my ferritin test was high, so I couldn’t take any supplements.
Then, my neurologist, who I absolutely adore, explained that the entire neurology department (doctors only) quit due to the horrible administration. I had access to a PA over the next year. Just to be clear, there are two MS specialists in my state- the one 2 hours away was not accepting any new patients and the one 3 hours away had a 2 year wait. I live in the fastest growing city in the US, and it’s a college town. The hospital here is very large and serves all the rural communities. Luckily, a new health clinic extension is opening and I’m hoping the competition will bring positive changes. But, new clinic won’t have a neurologist for at least another year.
In the meantime, my cognitive and executive functioning have fallen off of a cliff. My short term memory is the same as a goldfish. My exhaustion is at an all time high and Modafinil assistance has plateaued. I quit my job and now am doing private tutoring- but I can usually only handle 4 hours a day. I can still tutor because I have been doing the same program for over 20 years, but learning something new is almost impossible. Perfect example of executive functioning issues: I went over to help a friend learn how to can and make jam. No problem! Then I go to pack up my stuff and I can’t figure out how to do it. It usually takes me 3 or 4 tries to leave the house, even if I have tried to set out what I need the night before. I have a waitlist of private clients needing help, but I’ve become so flaky with cancelling sessions because I never know when I will hit a brick wall, so I don’t want to start with any new clients.
Then, I get a call scheduling me with a new neurologist to establish care. Yay!!! And I find out that he is a neurology generalist, and of course, 1 neurologist to cover a large population. I like the new neurologist, but can tell he was stressed and overworked. I had the hard conversation about going on a partial disability. I am also having some cardiac issues that also cause fatigue. And surprise- here is another lesion that they missed on my last MRI a year ago. I asked how to start the disability process, and the doctor said the hospital used to have a social worker to help but not any more.
Now, I’m scheduled for a follow up MRI and neuropsych evaluation. I had to have an internal heart monitor installed. A new cardiologist ordered genetic testing, and that came back with an “unknown marker”. I’m also having problems with my joints hurting and popping out of place (this is also congenital- my joints dislocate super easy). I am depressed over not being able to afford to live. I am overwhelmed with trying to figure out public assistance here. The local Human Rights non profit has helped me apply for SNAP and emergency rental assistance, and I found someone at our low income clinic to help with disability paperwork today, but she said I will be denied and it will be a long process.
I can’t do the paperwork on my own. I did find a counselor and have an appointment next week. I feel like I am drowning and am grieving losing my independence. The worst part is that my MS is invisible. I have no lesions on my spine, and one optic nerve is slightly larger than the other, but healed. My left hand is a little slow, but only I notice. I grew up in a family (and state culture!) that you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and don’t ask for help. People can’t see that I’m struggling. I’ve been accused of being high when I repeat a conversation or have a hard time coming up with a word. My fabulous brother accused me of making it all up to be a “freeloader” that is too lazy to work. There are no MS support groups here. Parkinson’s & Huntington’s have multiple groups. Even attending an MS group is difficult because I don’t have mobility problems and I don’t feel welcome.
Any helpful advice? (After the new MRI, we will revisit changing from Copaxone to another medication.)

Age: 22
Sex: M
Height: 5”7 ft
Weight: 147 lbs
Health conditions: GERD, costochondritis, allergies
Medicine: Pantoprazole 40mg, Cetrizin Mylan 10mg.
Tobacco: nicotine thing (snus) for 7 years.
Alcohol: 0-1 times a month.
Previous health conditions: asthma as a child.
And so it begins…
I’ve posted here a couple of times, and I really appreciate the great answers I get. For 3 years I’ve had cardiophobia (I still do), but im starting to get really tired of it. I have tried many times to get a reassuring speech from a doctor, but I never got that, they say im healthy etc. but I never get any explanations, only «you’re fine».
I was wondering if any of you could tell me something uplifting and/or reassuring. I will write a lot of info:

• 8 ECG’s done (the last of them was a 12-lead). The ECG’s were done while i was fine, and when i had palpitations. All sinus rhythm.
  
• I had a halter monitor for 4 days. It showed 1% pvc rate, almost <1%. Supraventricular ectopic beat <1%. Irregular heart beat <1%. The results was sendt in to a cardiologist and reviewed, he told my doctor it was nothing to worry about.
  

Here’s some more info about my health:

• PEF (peak flow) 550-650.
  
• Low resting/sleeping heart rate: 40-55
  
• Standing/walking heartrate: 55-118
  
• Exercise level walking: 90-170 (the high end of puls is while walking uphill, fast pace)
  
• Recovery pulse with ~70% capacity: 41 in 1 min.
  
• I have a quite good sinus arrhythmia, pulse can go from fast to slow very quickly if i breathe deep, or stimulate vagus nerve (somehow).
  
• I dont work or go to school, for now, because of my crippling health anxiety, but i usually go for 2 x 45 min fast paced walks a day, and i do stuff around the house, ans some yoga (?idk what to call it in english) that my physiotherapist showed me.
  
• I eat healthy, atleast i try to, i have alot of indegestion problems.
  
• I drink tons of water and i almost never drink soda etc.
  
• I have low HRV: 40-60 usually.
  

I almost never feel my PVC’s, i have around 700 a day but i only feel like 0-4 of them, a day. They can come at any given time but mostly after eating, while bloated oand while in bed when i change posture or lay in a weird position. They can come while active aswell, but thats not so often, thats usually if i do a change in pace, like stop to check my pulse etc. (pulse oximeter). They scare me, not because im afraid of a weakened heart, but the fear of the ectopics turning in to a dangerous arrhythmia, i could name them all, but you know what im talking about.
My mental health is better, but the occuring symptoms i get from costochondritis, GERD, gastritis, slipping rib syndrome and (severe-) muscle tension makes me overthink everything, and i cant let go. I always think about my heart when i feel this pressure, tightness, shooting pain etc.
Doctors say im fine, and dont want to do any more testing, like: echocardiogram, x-ray etc. I’ve never had any of them. I also dont feel that im being takes seriously, well i do but the doctors are getting tired of me and appointmens are getting shorter and shorter because they dont like to explain things anymore, just: «Youre fine. Thats normal. Anything else on your mind?» So i feel kind of embarassed to keep showing up.
Thats why i write here, and i would appreciate any answers. I just want to get my life going, again, and stop this health anxiety.

I am moving to a new city this August and am extremely freaked out about finding a job. I am 22 and this is my first time not living or being supported by family.
I do not have a high school diploma as I got really really sick a month before graduation and had to drop out (I'm doing better now) and I fear this will make me unhirable.
Over the last few years, I've gotten several freelance software developer gigs so I do have some work experience. I have also done some volunteer work so I suppose that's a plus. Even though I am recovering from my illness I'm pretty foggy most days so doing coding work is very difficult at the moment, that is why I'm not even trying to get tech work atm.
Basically, I'm freaked out about being able to find even a basic job. Any advice is greatly appreciated.

I took a lot of AP and IB classes in high school, so I had enough credits to skip a year of college. I was checking prerequisites for application to med schools and a lot of them require credits for bio chem physics obviously. I got 8 credits of general bio 1 and 2 through AP bio, so would that count? If not I have more advanced bio which will get me to 8 credits by application, so would that count also? I also skipped chem 1 due to high school, so I only have 5 credits of general chem. I will be taking organic chem and biochem, which are separate prerequisite, but should I be worried about not meeting my chem prerequisite?

Specialty Interests: sports medicine, surgical specialty, unsure if I want to pursue highly competitive specialties like ROAD, but overall open to exploring CA resident, Asian
Before you throw rocks at me for the obvious "choose USMD over DO" I'd like to say that I am mostly leaning towards Creighton, just trying get as many opinions as possible
Creighton (Omaha, NE) Pros:

• USMD
• Faculty/culture seem nice
• Affiliated hospital
• Large university so I can use their facilities (nice gyms are of high interest)
• Low COL
• Well established
• Could do electives during 4th year in their Phoenix regional campus which is slightly closer to home.

Cons:

• Far from support system (family, S/O, friends). Flight tickets are expensive (~$600 round trip)
• 69k a year for tuition alone ($1900 for technology fee, which I heard is a macbook... I'd rather have it in cash)
• Possibly not much research opportunities
• Not much to do in the area, although not too bad of a problem for me since my life is mostly gym-work-gaming/indoor activities
• Not the most diverse place
• Honors/Pass/Fail so not a "true" pass/fail

Touro CA Pros:

• Close to support system
• More stuff to do (bay area)
• True pass/fail
• Matches 100%, impressive match list (even matched 2 students into dermatology in 2022) for a DO school.
• Tuition 4k cheaper than Creighton
• Less of a hassle to move, won't have to sell my car to buy a new one or transport it for >$1000

Cons:

• Clinical rotation site is based on lottery system and spread out
• Still expensive, tuition alone is 64k
• High COL, will likely settle in Oakland or Walnut Creek
• Inconvenience that comes with DO such as comlex+usmle, OMM in addition to regular med school classes
• limited research, more so than Creighton
• Not sure if it's a con but the calendar is Jewish holiday based? Idk what to expect, didn't seem too alarming based on their academic calendar

I (NB 24) didn’t get diagnosed until I was 22 and I’ve been working in relation with my current boss (F40s?) since I graduated high school. My boss (F40s?) prior also was diagnosed with ADD, but that is also a whole other post. Point being is during that time I felt like I had to compensate for both of our disregulation and distraction in managing tasks. This, in addition to a lot of other things, led me to decide to choose my current employer when the time came where they both needed more than half my work schedule and I needed to go full time for one or the other. It was messy, but it was worth it. I was impressed with her organization (despite my diagnosis I am a very organized person as well, but struggle with executive functioning nonetheless) and am still glad I made the choice I did 2 years ago. The hyper focus, time blindness and struggle to keep tasks in my head when distracted (ex. Client phone calls) do impact my job despite my best efforts to manage. I will start a day knowing I have a meeting (I work from home) and will be thinking about it all day, but when the time comes I am wrapped up in a task or get a call and I could miss the meeting entirely if I am not careful. I write it down in my planner, add it to my calendar, I even have a weekly alarm set to attend the regular weekly meeting with my boss. I do a decent job of showing up, most of the time. Where I usually get caught is when the meeting time moves, or there is a meeting that isn’t part of my usual schedule. I have missed whole meetings or shown up very late. It’s definitely something that I try to account for with additional reminders. So I had a unusual meeting scheduled the other day and before the meeting I told my boss, she will usually text me to ask if I can still attend if I’m 5 min late, that I struggle when the meetings are not at the usual time and to just text me if I am not there when it starts. So yesterday I get a call from a client, am doing some stuff to set them up and I get a her usual text to ask if I am coming. I swear it was on my mind all day that I had a meeting, but by the time 3pm rolled around… I just lost track of time. I got on the meeting about 6 min late and we were talking. She essentially said what I did, that she understood that it’s hard for me when the meetings are not at regular times. She was already texting me prior and has always been patient with my fidgeting, exercise ball that I sit on, I talk a lot (where I think I show hyperactivity), distractibility, mistakes, tardiness , emotional disregulation. I feel so fortunate to have a workplace where my input is valued, where my talents can shine, and where my limitations are understood and accommodated within reason. I understand being late is rude and I always come forward with solutions, but I am never going to be able to perfect timeliness. I appreciate the patience from my peers, the honesty I can come forward with about my diagnosis and the grace I am given. I work in mental health, but that doesn’t necessarily mean every practice is like this. I will continue to work to find spaces that have space for me. It is a relief to be imperfect and for that to be ok. It reminds me to continue to move away from those who choose righteousness over understanding. Those who aim to put me back in my place, those who see my diagnosis as an excuse and my condition as an inconvenience. I don’t have to be a burden in the eyes of those close to me, I have talents too, a lot of them. I hope you all can find or have found spaces where you are given room for your struggles and uplifted for your talents. It’s possible and you do deserve it, no matter what anyone else says.

When you have multiple interests that you want to incorporate into a room, what's the best way to do so? For example:
In my home office, I have my bourbon collection and some bourbon/cigar decor, military paraphernalia, college football items, and then some random items that were gifts from kids. On top of that, my wife got me a race bib/medal display, plus I have some random things like a cross made from pallet wood, etc. This room falls under my wife's scrutiny because it's highly visible and the first room you see when you enter our home (I've already gotten rid of all my geeky stuff, as a result). I'd like it to look classy, too, and not completely random or like the walls of a Cracker Barrel.
In my garage, I have more military & college football items (flags & stuff that wouldn't fit the aesthetic I was going for in the home office), my Volkswagen collection (die-cast, framed posters, art work), and more (some old NASCAR stuff, etc).
Is there a certain number of themes you can mix together before it becomes too much? Do I need to condense/niche down? And do you group each theme together, or spread them all out/mix them?

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I have been trying for over two years to get help with ADHD-symptoms.
My life is miserable. Losing everything. Late to everything. Time blindness to the max. So bad that I didn’t put my son in preschool knowing we wouldn’t make it on time and I could use the extra year to get control of this.
Anyway, the first psychiatrist wrote me off because while he was asking about my family situation, and childhood, I shared with him about my divorce that I was going through, and it made me cry. So he decided not to move forward with ADHD diagnosis until I work on the trauma. He also told me that I “was too smart” in college and high school so I didn’t feel the need to “pay attention.” I want to PAY ATTENTION. I want to succeed! But I can’t. I’ve tried.
Fast forward a year later, healed from the divorce and have been in biweekly therapy to figure out all things life, I go into see the psychiatrist again, and bring up the ADHD symptoms, which to me, are the core of my issues. I can’t get work done. I can’t finish anything. This psychiatrist told me, in response to me telling him some real issues I’ve been having related to the ADHD said, “it takes 21 days to build a habit.”
Top tier medical advice sir. IVE TRIED TO BUILD HABITS. It doesn’t work because of my suspected ADHD!
I’m so tired. I’m exhausted from battling simple everyday trials like arriving on time, not forgetting or losing things, not having to keep four different calendars and still forget appointments. The list goes on.

I know for fact that I have been undiagnosed for years and years. It caused to me flunk out of high school 6 times, (i kept trying online), I have a hard time figuring out where to even begin to clean my house, and when I start to clean I get side tracked from what I'm doing with other tasks and it ends up taking way longer than it should (it takes me like 8 hours to clean my 3 bedroom apartment), I'm horrible at writing lists and planning anything at all? ordering groceries online for my family takes 5-6 hours, and it's to the point where my life is becoming completely insufferable. I get overwhelmed and mentally drained way too fast to the point I have to take naps after doing simple tasks. I literally cannot focus for shit. I'm 26 years old and I'm trying to graduate high school ONCE AGAIN using an online program that I paid over $1,000 for and I'm afraid of not being able to finish, I've been struggling with focus, but not the work.
How do I speak to my doctor about this, or even call and make the appointment. I do not want them to think I'm some drug addict and that alone has prevented me from getting help. I do not smoke weed, drink, or do any other recreational drug.
It seems like haven't finished anything in my entire life because of all of this, and I really want to be able to go to college to become a dental hygienist to give my son a better future.