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General chat thread

Reader mode
Before the site update, my alerts were configured to notify me when someone liked my posts, replied to me, etc. But when replying to a watched thread, it ONLY notified me the FIRST time someone replied to the thread in question, and wouldn't notify me again until I'd checked on the thread. After the update, my settings got messed up, and I've only been able to figure out how to either disable notifications for the thread, or else notify me EVERY TIME, which means getting dozens of notifications all the time. Does anyone know how to reset it to pre-update settings?
 
Katana_Master said:
Before the site update, my alerts were configured to notify me when someone liked my posts, replied to me, etc. But when replying to a watched thread, it ONLY notified me the FIRST time someone replied to the thread in question, and wouldn't notify me again until I'd checked on the thread. After the update, my settings got messed up, and I've only been able to figure out how to either disable notifications for the thread, or else notify me EVERY TIME, which means getting dozens of notifications all the time. Does anyone know how to reset it to pre-update settings?
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Treble said:
What is it with me and run on sentences?!
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Hatless makes a good point.

Although run-on sentences aren't always bad.
The main reason they are generally taught as a no-no is that they can be a little overwhelming and less clear than shorter sentences.
And additionally because generally they contain multiple major ideas.

They can be good when you have a lot of relatively unimportant things you still want to communicate and only a small amount of important ones. You can put the unimportant stuff in the the middle of the run-ons. And put the import stuff at the end and beginning of them. Or in shorter sentences which will stand out in contrast to the longer ones.

However in dialogue or character thoughts they can be used to express a smart character who likes to talk a lot. Since run-on sentences would either take a while to say or would involve speaking very quickly. Really short micro sentences are better for actiony type fast paced scenes.
It also can be great for someone who is sort of mentally spiraling, unfocused, confused, really excited etc.
Particularly in thought-speak/writing but also sometimes in dialogue.

If you don't use too many run-on sentences then they can really pop and draw attention to themselves in a context of midlength or shorter sentences.
Long sentences in general.(Not necesarily run-ons)

'
John walked tiredly down the windy road, through the tall, breezy cornfield, and into the gigantic hardware store.(Long but not a run-on) He wandered the Automotive section till he grabbed a gas can with ragged breath. (Arguably a run-on. this could easily be two sentences. But has only one action technically with how it is written.) He sighed. He didn't enjoy looking forward to the trek back to his car.'


But using a bunch of clauses that share the same action and that come after one another in time can be a great way to imply the passage of time. Doing that is fairly clear and also gives you long sentences. More generally making it so the ending of one longer sentence and the beginning of the next share the same subject makes things flow better and are clearer. Sometimes that isn't feasible though. Sharing the same subject as the last sentences is also fairly clear but often not as much. Unless it's a simple subject and the next sentence begins with a pronoun.

Setting sentences on their own makes things seem faster.

It draws focus.

It darts down the page.

It can't communicate as much information. But, makes sure that important things are highly emphasized. Using a short sentence set on it's own line after a long paragraph with long sentences is probably one of the strongest forms of directing focus. Although how wide of a writing area you have effects how much that effect manifest. A narrower writing area makes it easier to make a paragraph feel long when you want it to, But if it's too narrow then any paragraph with more than 4-5 sentences of decent length starts feeling long.

When you have a wide area, like this one, you can put multiple lengthy sentences on the same line and still feel relatively short. Or just one or two long ones.

It's still not as punchy as just one medium length sentence on it's own.

Much less with short ones.

But trying to look for run-on sentences in your writing is a good idea, to play with at least. The don't always have to be removed. But it is valuable to think of alternative ways of saying the same thing. Sometimes they are more clear, Or come together to create an effect you want more powerfully.
It isn't just about what you say or write, but how you write it out, and communicate that content.

I learned most of this from a Rhetorical grammar book I read for a class.
Those types of books are gold mines for micro scale writing. And making grammar a tool for you to manipulate to get the effect you want rather than just a set of words.

I read a couple of those and they essentially give you a whole bunch of techniques you can use to transform how you are saying something or manipulate emphasis within a sentence, paragraph, page, or even a work.
And how those interact with clarity.
As well as things like the feeling of the words, emotion of the moment, and pacing and flow of the scene.

Creative Grammar books are also useful and fun but not quite as much as rhetorical ones.
Now you can get some style handbooks if you want to make sure your writing is very clear.
And they will give you a curated set of rules based on the authors opinions about writing.
And it is definitely worth looking at some of those, But they aren't as fun. And also are not easy to practice.
And it mostly gives checklists to use when editing.

Editing checklists are valuable. Although, in my view editing in a creative manner is often a way to unlock ways to word things that are amazing and not just good.
Actively thinking about how well your writing works and what it is trying to accomplish and communicate at every level can give you a further level of control.
From the level of how clauses are ordered and constructed inside a sentence. (Or even words.) Sentences as a whole, and how they fit into paragraphs.
And how paragraphs contrast and flow into one another to set the pacing of the scene and create the emotional or characterization effect you want.

In some cases curating "word list" can also be an amazing way to help give a particular feeling to a story. I usually don't bother with that until later on it editing, because it isn't easy. But whenever I have actively designed a word choice for a space I have really liked how precise it made the feeling of the story.

Lot's of things can effect how a word feels, You can go for alliteration. (Or shared syllables or letters at the beginning.) Or rhymes for obvious stuff.
But more generally going for more words that use particular consonants or types of ones can change the feel, similarly with vowels.
Or for shorter vs. longer words.
(Or even root language, Using Saxon root words has a different feel to Latin, french, or Greek.)
If you have a character with a unique profession then looking up words specific to the trade of the protagonist can be a great way to subtly indicate their knowledge and make it feel a bit more authentic. Or Jargon and such.
If they are a logger you can look up specialized logging terms and use them.
Or if they are a carpenter you can try to adjust how you describe things to use carpentry terms and emphasize what that character would be likely to notice about the environment.|

More generally using more specific words can often allow you to communicate more with less words or sentences.

Going back to run-ons. Sometimes they are actually more clear than any of the other alternatives you have been able to think of.
If you have a paragraph made out of a lot of short sentences which don't say much, then 2-4 longer sentences very well could be more clear.
Although, doing that can have an effective cadence which can make up for it being wordier.

But writing out some paragraphs using only short sentences.
(Or sentences with a certain rough length.) Is a great exercise.
And then once you do that trying to condense it down into 1-3 long sentences. Or even full on run-ons.
Often when trying to condense you can actually find ways to express or imply more info than what you originally used more words for.
(In addition to cutting a lot of filler words that only serve a grammatical function rather than a content one.)

Doing the reverse is also a great excercise. Take a run-on or a paragraph made from 2-3 run-ons and try to split them up into shorter sentences while not loosing any elements of meaning. (Or even adding some.)

Having too many or too few words that only serve a grammatical function generally tends to make things less clear.
(Which is another thing which can make run-ons less clear.)
When things have a good enough flow you can even omit words and still have things be very clear.
But if it is poor and you are missing something you just make it confusing. And on the other hand, a lot of grammatical words can bog down a sentence since the actual meaning is buried under words for showing relationships between concepts. (That is technically a seperate issue from run-ons. But is a common reason why they are unclear.)

But ultimately you want to be in control of how you use grammar, rather than letting poor grammer or even just a strict set of rules control your writing.

And more generally looking for exercises that let you practice tools within a small area of writing, or that make you put the tools you know to the test in a small context are a great way to improve your ability to wordsmith.

Trying to communicate a very specific feeling in a passage without actually saying what it is can be great practice too.
Can you make the prose itself feel angry?
What about sad narration?
Or happy?
Pretentious?
Generally very vague and very specific feelings are the hardest to communicate indirectly in writing.

Like the bittersweet feeling of morning someone who died a long time ago while also feeling happy to reminesce about the good memories. Perhaps while looking through a photo album.
You can do it a lot easier by relying on cliches or specific actions and events that are already associated with the feeling by the reader.
But what about trying to capture that feeling during a fight scene?

Anyways, I hope this mini-essay on writing and grammar is useful to you.
 
Is it wrong to retract your opinion of you have pushback against it/disagreement?
 
Daytripper said:
Is it wrong to retract your opinion of you have pushback against it/disagreement?
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Depends.

Are you retracting your opinion because you realized you're wrong? Because that's called maturity.

Are you retracting your opinion because you've been bullied into doing so? That's called cowardice.

Admittedly, cowardice isn't always a bad idea. But the point remains.


Your exact circumstance? Is on you to decide.
 
Has anyone's youtube been getting worse as of late?

Mine just started it out of nowhere. Like the page itself freezes but I can close it just fine, youtube only, and all other pages are fine

And it doesn't affect the rest of the pc. It started out of nowhere

I changed from chrome to mozilla and it's still a thing. Video settings are low too 360
 
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Vanargandr said:
Has anyone's youtube been getting worse as of late?

Mine just started it out of nowhere. Like the page itself freezes but I can close it just fine, youtube only, and all other pages are fine

And it doesn't affect the rest of the pc. It started out of nowhere
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adblocker for me causes the issue
 
I'm using an Incognito window. Sometimes ads do pop up the first time I play a video in a new window, but only the once. No slowdown at all.
 
Scygnus said:
I'm using an Incognito window. Sometimes ads do pop up the first time I play a video in a new window, but only the once. No slowdown at all.
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Incognito doesn't keep secrets from Google, it just keeps your local browsing history clean.

They very much do mind if you're using something which prevents their information gathering. Incognito does nothing to hamper Google's information gathering.
 
evildice said:
Incognito doesn't keep secrets from Google, it just keeps your local browsing history clean.

They very much do mind if you're using something which prevents their information gathering. Incognito does nothing to hamper Google's information gathering.
Click to expand...
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I'm also running uMatrix and MalwareBytes. Incognito just added an extra layer by keeping me logged out without having to log out of my other google stuff. And it kept that stupid 'enable ads if you wanna pass' popup off my screen while they were doing that.
 
For the past week, I've had a series of dreams that end up with me becoming a vampire loli. I have no fucking clue why, but again it's been going on for the past week. this morning it started along the lines of:
>I wake up
>some weird supernatural power has dominated the earth and likes messing with people
>in order to survive you have to pick "a new way of living" capsule from a game of roulette
>there is no bet or wager, its just a complete random roll to see what you end up becoming
>it ended up on Vampire Girl
>the display lit up and briefly told me how I would have to live and what I would get out of it
>then a big flash erupts from the table and I feel different
>queue me standing in front of my room
>the doorknob is now tall enough to reach my chin
>next thing I remember is sitting outside, hunched over on my yard's bench
>thinking: "Yeah, I can't go outside anymore. What a bummer."
And then I woke up.

The last dream yesterday was being, again, a homeless vampire loli trying to bum blood off of people in an underwater city like it was Rapture from Bioshock. I distinctly remember a restaurant manager giving me fish blood and letting me nap in a velvet booth.
 
So, I haven't had spaghetti and meatballs in awhile, so I ordered some along with a slice of cheesecake from my favorite Italian restaurant.

First, the spaghetti and meatballs was fucking great, it came in the "Italian Mom" serving size and I literally could not stop eating it. It was too good.

I had not been expecting the cheesecake to also come in the "Italian Mom" serving size. This fucker is more like a slab of cheesecake than a slice. I'm way too full to eat that after all that spaghetti, which is a shame because I had a bite and it's amazing too.

Luckily, cheesecake can be stored in a fridge overnight without losing it's luster.
 
Hoo boy. So, my life's... well, I need to vent. Probably since the first time since I was a teenager, I'm in a situation where I don't feel like I'm in control and at least know what my next course of action is.

And, may as well cast this out there if only just to de-frazzle some nerves. Because I really don't have people to talk to, I've never needed people to talk to.

Also: don't worry about the whole 'wellwishing' thing. That's always felt hollow to me, I'm just here to ramble a bit.


So, as some percentage of you know, I've been looking after my grandmother for the last, oh, let's say about eighteen years now. At the time, I really was the only one who could. While my uncle or a couple of my cousins might have been able to move her into their homes, I was the only one really in a position to move in with her. All I had to do was move out of an apartment. In the same town, even.

The years went by, this became a pretty happy normal. Save money, do all the man stuff around the place like mow a damn acre that's more swamp than land. Be a failed writer.

All very comfortable, all very normal. I was happy, and more than that, I was content.

Hey, I found what I love, and am still willing to let it kill me.


And then this week happened. Grandma gets sick, we take her to the hospital. Not the first time. Not the first time this summer. Looked like UTI infection #20-ish at this point.

Listeria. Fucking. Listeria. Which I find out about when the health department calls me up to play 200 questions. Because why would the hospital tell me anything? I'm only the one who's spent the last couple decades looking after her.

Side note: there's been a listeria outbreak in the USA since July. And somehow I didn't hear a thing about it.

As much as I bitched at her for not watching her diet, not doing her exercises to keep up her strength, not taking care of her kidney issues, and later skipping her dialysis treatments... this is what's probably going to kill her. Something she had absolutely no power to prevent.

Of course, I ate all the same stuff she did. But apparently my immune system proves its demigod status yet again and I'm perfectly unharmed.

They had to do a surgery to put a port in her heart to supply the antibiotic directly because her circulatory system isn't strong enough. There's a very real chance she dies tonight, since the surgery weakened her already frail condition.

If not- an eight week long antibiotic regimen. She'll need her dialysis done almost every day rather than three times a week. And if that happens, it's likely she's going to refuse treatment and go on hospice.

I wouldn't even blame her.

Fucking lysteria.

And I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'll probably get this property. The swamp. That I don't want. In a neighborhood where I'm the only resident under the age of seventy. Full of houses that are at least fifty years older than the residents. Made of such illustrious building materials as lead paints, asbestos, and creosote-soaked railroad ties that someone probably stole.

I've spent functionally my entire adult life looking after this one person. Wake up, make sure Grandma's okay, set up something for lunch. Go to work. Come home. Check on grandma. Cook dinner. Make sure Grandma took her meds.

Called profanities and told to go to hell because I won't let her slop a solid inch of condiments on a burger. Or when I would throw away the bags of candy she'd get. I never figured out who kept giving them to her.

I made a point of doing so while she was watching, you know.

Because I am almost as stubborn as she is, and significantly more ambulatory. Why, yes, there are people more stubborn than me. I'm related to quite a few of them.

All that effort into trying to get her to take better care of herself, all her effort in resisting... and none of it mattered.

Because listeria. Spread because some produce company screwed something up, probably halfway across the country.

And I'm sitting here asking "now what do I do with my life?" Because even if she gets through this, it's taken most of what's left off the inevitable countdown to the end.

And on that day, one of the parts of my life I'd just taken for granted will be gone.


Guess this is what empty nesters feel like. Except if I get woken up at 3AM to her needing to crash on the couch, I'm calling a priest.
 
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TanaNari said:
Hoo boy. So, my life's... well, I need to vent. Probably since the first time since I was a teenager, I'm in a situation where I don't feel like I'm in control and at least know what my next course of action is.

And, may as well cast this out there if only just to de-frazzle some nerves. Because I really don't have people to talk to, I've never needed people to talk to.

Also: don't worry about the whole 'wellwishing' thing. That's always felt hollow to me, I'm just here to ramble a bit.


So, as some percentage of you know, I've been looking after my grandmother for the last, oh, let's say about eighteen years now. At the time, I really was the only one who could. While my uncle or a couple of my cousins might have been able to move her into their homes, I was the only one really in a position to move in with her. All I had to do was move out of an apartment. In the same town, even.

The years went by, this became a pretty happy normal. Save money, do all the man stuff around the place like mow a damn acre that's more swamp than land. Be a failed writer.

All very comfortable, all very normal. I was happy, and more than that, I was content.

Hey, I found what I love, and am still willing to let it kill me.


And then this week happened. Grandma gets sick, we take her to the hospital. Not the first time. Not the first time this summer. Looked like UTI infection #20-ish at this point.

Listeria. Fucking. Listeria. Which I find out about when the health department calls me up to play 200 questions. Because why would the hospital tell me anything? I'm only the one who's spent the last decade and a half looking after her.

Side note: there's been a listeria outbreak in the USA since July. And somehow I didn't hear a thing about it.

As much as I bitched at her for not watching her diet, not doing her exercises to keep up her strength, not taking care of her kidney issues, and later skipping her dialysis treatments... this is what's probably going to kill her. Something she had absolutely no power to prevent.

Of course, I ate all the same stuff she did. But apparently my immune system proves its demigod status yet again and I'm perfectly unharmed.

They had to do a surgery to put a port in her heart to supply the antibiotic directly because her circulatory system isn't strong enough. There's a very real chance she dies tonight, since the surgery weakened her already frail condition.

If not- an eight week long antibiotic regimen. She'll need her dialysis done almost every day rather than three times a week. And if that happens, it's likely she's going to refuse treatment and go on hospice.

I wouldn't even blame her.

Fucking lysteria.

And I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'll probably get this property. The swamp. That I don't want. In a neighborhood where I'm the only resident under the age of seventy. Full of houses that are at least fifty years older than the residents. Made of such illustrious building materials as lead paints, asbestos, and creosote-soaked railroad ties that someone probably stole.

I've spent functionally my entire adult life looking after this one person. Wake up, make sure Grandma's okay, set up something for lunch. Go to work. Come home. Check on grandma. Cook dinner. Make sure Grandma took her meds.

Called profanities and told to go to hell because I won't let her slop a solid inch of condiments on a burger. Or when I would throw away the bags of candy she'd get. I never figured out who kept giving them to her.

I made a point of doing so while she was watching, you know.

Because I am almost as stubborn as she is, and significantly more ambulatory. Why, yes, there are people more stubborn than me. I'm related to quite a few of them.

All that effort into trying to get her to take better care of herself, all her effort in resisting... and none of it mattered.

Because listeria. Spread because some produce company screwed something up, probably halfway across the country.

And I'm sitting here asking "now what do I do with my life?" Because even if she gets through this, it's taken most of what's left off the inevitable countdown to the end.

And on that day, one of the parts of my life I'd just taken for granted will be gone.


Guess this is what empty nesters feel like. Except if I get woken up at 3AM to her needing to crash on the couch, I'm calling a priest.
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...I can commiserate, as my grandmother died earlier this year. My parents had been directly and indirectly taking care of her for some time, but just after New Years Day she took a tumble, and the next six weeks were watching her health crater. She died on February 15th.

With her gone, things are kind of quieter, because she, and her boyfriend, were the family that most often had little get-togethers with us. And now there is just... so much less.

I hope at the minimum that your grandma can recover enough that you get to say a proper goodbye to each other, if not recover more fully.
 
TanaNari said:
Hoo boy. So, my life's... well, I need to vent. Probably since the first time since I was a teenager, I'm in a situation where I don't feel like I'm in control and at least know what my next course of action is.

And, may as well cast this out there if only just to de-frazzle some nerves. Because I really don't have people to talk to, I've never needed people to talk to.

Also: don't worry about the whole 'wellwishing' thing. That's always felt hollow to me, I'm just here to ramble a bit.


So, as some percentage of you know, I've been looking after my grandmother for the last, oh, let's say about eighteen years now. At the time, I really was the only one who could. While my uncle or a couple of my cousins might have been able to move her into their homes, I was the only one really in a position to move in with her. All I had to do was move out of an apartment. In the same town, even.

The years went by, this became a pretty happy normal. Save money, do all the man stuff around the place like mow a damn acre that's more swamp than land. Be a failed writer.

All very comfortable, all very normal. I was happy, and more than that, I was content.

Hey, I found what I love, and am still willing to let it kill me.


And then this week happened. Grandma gets sick, we take her to the hospital. Not the first time. Not the first time this summer. Looked like UTI infection #20-ish at this point.

Listeria. Fucking. Listeria. Which I find out about when the health department calls me up to play 200 questions. Because why would the hospital tell me anything? I'm only the one who's spent the last couple decades looking after her.

Side note: there's been a listeria outbreak in the USA since July. And somehow I didn't hear a thing about it.

As much as I bitched at her for not watching her diet, not doing her exercises to keep up her strength, not taking care of her kidney issues, and later skipping her dialysis treatments... this is what's probably going to kill her. Something she had absolutely no power to prevent.

Of course, I ate all the same stuff she did. But apparently my immune system proves its demigod status yet again and I'm perfectly unharmed.

They had to do a surgery to put a port in her heart to supply the antibiotic directly because her circulatory system isn't strong enough. There's a very real chance she dies tonight, since the surgery weakened her already frail condition.

If not- an eight week long antibiotic regimen. She'll need her dialysis done almost every day rather than three times a week. And if that happens, it's likely she's going to refuse treatment and go on hospice.

I wouldn't even blame her.

Fucking lysteria.

And I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'll probably get this property. The swamp. That I don't want. In a neighborhood where I'm the only resident under the age of seventy. Full of houses that are at least fifty years older than the residents. Made of such illustrious building materials as lead paints, asbestos, and creosote-soaked railroad ties that someone probably stole.

I've spent functionally my entire adult life looking after this one person. Wake up, make sure Grandma's okay, set up something for lunch. Go to work. Come home. Check on grandma. Cook dinner. Make sure Grandma took her meds.

Called profanities and told to go to hell because I won't let her slop a solid inch of condiments on a burger. Or when I would throw away the bags of candy she'd get. I never figured out who kept giving them to her.

I made a point of doing so while she was watching, you know.

Because I am almost as stubborn as she is, and significantly more ambulatory. Why, yes, there are people more stubborn than me. I'm related to quite a few of them.

All that effort into trying to get her to take better care of herself, all her effort in resisting... and none of it mattered.

Because listeria. Spread because some produce company screwed something up, probably halfway across the country.

And I'm sitting here asking "now what do I do with my life?" Because even if she gets through this, it's taken most of what's left off the inevitable countdown to the end.

And on that day, one of the parts of my life I'd just taken for granted will be gone.


Guess this is what empty nesters feel like. Except if I get woken up at 3AM to her needing to crash on the couch, I'm calling a priest.
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I... understand. I've been there. It was with my mom. I'm not very good at this. Never had been. I know that well wishes are hollow. I've heard them all. I just hope that your grandma recovers.
 
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I hate how sterilized and repressive the Internet has become. You can't even jokingly threaten bad writers anymore.

We have reached the point where it's easier to make edgy jokes in front of your colleagues than on the net.
 
TanaNari said:
Hoo boy. So, my life's... well, I need to vent. Probably since the first time since I was a teenager, I'm in a situation where I don't feel like I'm in control and at least know what my next course of action is.

And, may as well cast this out there if only just to de-frazzle some nerves. Because I really don't have people to talk to, I've never needed people to talk to.

Also: don't worry about the whole 'wellwishing' thing. That's always felt hollow to me, I'm just here to ramble a bit.


So, as some percentage of you know, I've been looking after my grandmother for the last, oh, let's say about eighteen years now. At the time, I really was the only one who could. While my uncle or a couple of my cousins might have been able to move her into their homes, I was the only one really in a position to move in with her. All I had to do was move out of an apartment. In the same town, even.

The years went by, this became a pretty happy normal. Save money, do all the man stuff around the place like mow a damn acre that's more swamp than land. Be a failed writer.

All very comfortable, all very normal. I was happy, and more than that, I was content.

Hey, I found what I love, and am still willing to let it kill me.


And then this week happened. Grandma gets sick, we take her to the hospital. Not the first time. Not the first time this summer. Looked like UTI infection #20-ish at this point.

Listeria. Fucking. Listeria. Which I find out about when the health department calls me up to play 200 questions. Because why would the hospital tell me anything? I'm only the one who's spent the last couple decades looking after her.

Side note: there's been a listeria outbreak in the USA since July. And somehow I didn't hear a thing about it.

As much as I bitched at her for not watching her diet, not doing her exercises to keep up her strength, not taking care of her kidney issues, and later skipping her dialysis treatments... this is what's probably going to kill her. Something she had absolutely no power to prevent.

Of course, I ate all the same stuff she did. But apparently my immune system proves its demigod status yet again and I'm perfectly unharmed.

They had to do a surgery to put a port in her heart to supply the antibiotic directly because her circulatory system isn't strong enough. There's a very real chance she dies tonight, since the surgery weakened her already frail condition.

If not- an eight week long antibiotic regimen. She'll need her dialysis done almost every day rather than three times a week. And if that happens, it's likely she's going to refuse treatment and go on hospice.

I wouldn't even blame her.

Fucking lysteria.

And I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'll probably get this property. The swamp. That I don't want. In a neighborhood where I'm the only resident under the age of seventy. Full of houses that are at least fifty years older than the residents. Made of such illustrious building materials as lead paints, asbestos, and creosote-soaked railroad ties that someone probably stole.

I've spent functionally my entire adult life looking after this one person. Wake up, make sure Grandma's okay, set up something for lunch. Go to work. Come home. Check on grandma. Cook dinner. Make sure Grandma took her meds.

Called profanities and told to go to hell because I won't let her slop a solid inch of condiments on a burger. Or when I would throw away the bags of candy she'd get. I never figured out who kept giving them to her.

I made a point of doing so while she was watching, you know.

Because I am almost as stubborn as she is, and significantly more ambulatory. Why, yes, there are people more stubborn than me. I'm related to quite a few of them.

All that effort into trying to get her to take better care of herself, all her effort in resisting... and none of it mattered.

Because listeria. Spread because some produce company screwed something up, probably halfway across the country.

And I'm sitting here asking "now what do I do with my life?" Because even if she gets through this, it's taken most of what's left off the inevitable countdown to the end.

And on that day, one of the parts of my life I'd just taken for granted will be gone.


Guess this is what empty nesters feel like. Except if I get woken up at 3AM to her needing to crash on the couch, I'm calling a priest.
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Just reading this made my jaw drop simply because of how relatable it is to me.

Much like you I spent more than half my life caring for my parent, in this case, my adoptive dad. He had a slew of health problems due to his advanced age, and I was to care for him through both the (very few) good times and (very, very many) bad times because the rest of my family couldn't be bothered. As time went on I saw him change. Watching dementia and parkinson's disease slowly and viciously erase what was once him was soul crushing for me. Eventually, he needed to be entered into a nursing home because his condition was way beyond what I, at the time a 21-year-old C student with no ambition could treat. He passed away from an aortic anyurism 8 months later. That was 10 years ago, and a lot has changed for me since that time.

Just wanted to share this to let you know you're not alone. If you ever want to talk about it, feel free to hit me up in DMs.
 
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