H20 delirious wife

I have been mad obsessed with this show since I started watching it a few weeks ago and am wondering what the overall consensus is now that a final theory can be molded from the pieces given to us (I think!). The 3 big mysteries as yet to be revealed would be the "What", what happened to cause needing the Silo and what is it. The "Why", why are they actually in the Silo. And the "Who", who is behind it all and what is their actual purpose. Of course if it's green outside or not, but depending on where you stand on that, I think you will have drastically different "What, Why & Who" than people on the other side. I believe they have provided us already with enough details to piece together what is really going on, and here is my theory and would LOVE to know where you stand since most of the theories I've read totally make sense as well. I think that's what makes this show so special, the same way the siloinians must have been fighting and disagreeing about the outside being green or not and how confident they were in it, is the same thing we as a subreddit are disagreeing and sometimes arguing over because we each "know" we are right. It's fascinating to me how well the writers nailed this to cause what appears to be a split on this. So here we go, my theory. NO BOOK SPOILERS PLEASE.
To start this, I will say I was originally on the poison gas in the helmet/suit side of things and green everywhere. I had hope for the siloinians as if I was one, wanting there to be green outside, wanting there to be hope of a green Earth, hope for humanity, wanting there to be some big government conspiracy with evil overlords. And I think the way they positioned the storytelling, deliberately caused those emotions in most of us. What gave me pause on the "green" theory though, is that this is not a "happy ending" kind of show. Like every character they want you to like, they kill later in the episode lol. That says alot already IMO. But what got me to turn the corner to the dark side, was trying to make sense of a few things mentioned that feel important to the story but I couldn't quite piece where those things belonged. I'm talking about the watch, the tape and the camcorder. The watch can be explained in a few ways (I'd still like to know what yall think) but something as simple as her using it to just to see who notices it. The camcorder will play in somehow dealing with showing them a video or even simply just being able to turn it on a see the passthrough of the video feed on the screen which would be a whole revelation for them in and of itself (they've never seen a video or possibly even a photograph EVER, I think this will happen ep.8 or 9). But the tape. The damn tape they've brought up WAY to many times now and shown them taping up the suits to many times now and that single thing has got me to flip my whole theory to the dead Earth theory so that all the pieces can fit.
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So being firmly set that the Earth is toast, everything else seems to fall in line and make sense now. Let's go back to when this all started. Lets say it's anything catastrophic. I'm hoping for an asteroid colision that caused a ring around the planet and caused a runaway greenhouse effect like Venus (I doubt this is what happens, but would be such a badass way to show the audience once she walks over that hill and sees a ring, I'll get to that). I think any scenario where the atmosphere gets fucked. Global warming causing all plant death works, as does a super Volcano, or my favorite, the asteroid impact (without the ring is FAR more believable though, I think an impact that causes a ring would obliterate the Earth lol). Theres probably a few more I'm not thinking of, so feel free to add to the list of possibilities. The "What" here I don't think matters as much as what that lead to, plant death and shrinking oxygen levels on Earth. This lead to the construction of Silos and their purpose being to pump oxygen back into the atmosphere, this is the "Why". How do they do that? We already know how it can be done, hydrolysis, separate H20 and use hydrogen to power things and oxygen goes back into the air. Where's the best place to do that? The ocean, which is also why they've showed the ocean multiple times in a show where nobody knows about oceans.
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So you begin work on these Silos, and get people in them before it's to late. Absolutely NONE of these people probably want to be there compared to green awesome Earth, but they know they have to in order to survive. So what do you do? You try and make their stay as comfortable and Earthlike as possible. Que the "green" window in the cafeteria and the "green" filters in their helmets. A similar reasoning is how Central Park was born if I'm not mistaken, much less depressing for residents. People clean, maybe explore, but no deaths in suits. Societies are built, and decades/generations go by. To the point where all people know, is the Silo. Why aren't you letting me outside, it's obviously fine, look at it! It's not hard to see how a rebellion can get started if at the time, the "green" window was there and there were all sorts of artifacts from the "old world" pointing to how great it was but everybody was being forced against their wills to stay inside. Any kind of oppression could sway a whole lot of people to stop "believing their lies". Just look at the current political climate or how split this subreddit is on if it's green or not. Rebellion happens and in order to avoid mass Silo death, they changed course and created the Pact. I don't think it matters if judicial or the rebels torched all knowledge, but I think judical were the ones that actually did. It absolutely makes sense for the security and safety of the Silo at that point. As does making sure any of these rebels (or family members of the rebels) that ended up staying don't reproduce. As does trying to figure out how to turn the green filter off in the cafeteria, which they probably had no idea what they were doing, so it's easy to believe they figured out how to add a process to disable the filter but on shutdown it undoes this process hence the flash of green before it fully shutdown.
So IMO Judicial is being genuine about everything. They legit KNOW going outside will kill you and they have been tasked with making absolute sure it doesn't happen again. Keeping the Silo running is the utmost importance for humanities survival and another rebellion could leave them with not enough workers, or flat out kill everyone in the Silo. All of their motivations make sense now. As does the janitors/surveillance. A sort of level above judicial that's hidden from view of all silonians that will keep order if judicial fails at it, i.e. murder. If it IS deadly outside, everybody WOULD be acting in the best interest of the Silo, even Sims. Which could also explain what people think as deadpan acting because he's seriously conflicted but he knows it has to be done, so kind of just dead inside, miserable. I'm willing to bet though, that that's not all to this story. I think the whole dead Earth will be dissapointing to some, so I'm pretty sure there will be an over arching story though that people WILL enjoy.
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So my theory is, episode 10 she's going to swap the "shitty" tape with her mechanical tape and venture out. Before hand, she'll make some agreement with star-guy though like Sherrif's wife did with him, and that's how the story can continue in this Silo with someone knowing the truth. She's going to get to the top of that hill, the camera is going to pan upwards, and we will see the coastline with Silo after Silo. I would absolutely love it if we can tell that most of them are offline and that's what future season could be about, finding out what happened and try getting them running again. I will die with joy if theres a damn ring around the planet though. I'm even starting to lean more towards these silos being mostly above ground. Does anyone know for sure if there are 2 different holding cells? One at the bottom and one at the top? Because I'm pretty sure the jail cell is at the bottom, and through all of the cleanings I dont think there has been mention or showing us a 1 or 2 day walk to the top, so I actually think the walkway to outside is at the BOTTOM of the Silo. This also makes sense if it's for hydrolosis, that ginormous water reservoir just replenishes itself because its next to the ocean at sea level. This would also explain the whole George's "doorway" and that it actually could lead outside still. Where else would that doorway go if it's a mile underground? Maybe to other silos if not outside?
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Anways, if you have made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope you comment and can add to this, or poke holes in my theory, I'm still trying to piece the last of the puzzle pieces together. I'm gaining more confidence in my theory day by day but would love nothing more for one of you to throw a wrench in it and get me to flip flop again back to green Earth!
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TLDR: Opinion: Earth is toast. Green is fake. Multiple Silos for pumping oxygen back into a destroyed atmosphere. Judicial/Janitors/Surveillance are not malicious, but acting in the best interest of every silonian. Rebellion happened BECAUSE of the relics and the green cafeteria screen/helmet filters causing too much hope and dillusion, hence the Pact. Greater over arching mystery will probably be why the Earth is dead and possibly about how to get other Silos online so maybe there can be a happy ending afterall.

Long read, sorry.
Yesterday I reached out to the Abuse Hotline. I did it on my phone, but it was in my browser in their chat, not their texts or call options. I spoke to an advocate who asked me specific questions that even my therapist hasn’t asked me. I’ve considered that I was being abused for a while, but I was in denial.
You see, six years ago I had a UTI right after moving to a new state with my now husband. This UTI cause me to be incredibly delirious to the point of psychosis. My husband took me to the hospital where they prescribed me antibiotics, but sent me home. That night I was still incredibly paranoid from my previous physically and verbally abusive relationship (water-boarding, gun to head, etc). I was terrified he was going to kill me, so my “logic” said to swallow a bunch of pills. All I had was antibiotics. The next day, my now husband and I got into an argument because I thought he was cheating on me. He called the cops because he was “scared” due to me acting out of character by yelling at him. The cops baker acted me where a psych I had never talked to before diagnosed me with bipolar schizophrenia and the nurses forced me to take a shot by threatening to hold me down if I did not take it.
This diagnosis has been thrown in my face our entire relationship and I have been made to believe that I had major mental issues. Eventually they dropped the schizophrenia due to lack of delusions, but continued to keep me on the bipolar medication. This entire time I had been on on medication. Some doctors would increase the dosage because I was having invasive thoughts, but this most recent psychiatrist actually decreased it. I had a mishap with my insurance where I was unable to fill the prescription for two weeks. Honestly? This was the most clear minded I have been in six years. Colors are no longer muted, I do not have the invasive thoughts, I am emotionally stable outside of when my husband is being abusive toward me, and even my psychiatrist says that I am speaking more aleatory and my memory seems to have improved substantially. I am now almost two months medication free with no mood swings. My psychiatrist is documenting everything and is certain it was a misdiagnosis. I have not told my husband that I am not on my medication, but he still likes to throw the diagnosis in my face and mockingly ask/ yell if I need to take my medication or “go talk to someone”.
After speaking with the hotline, they have identified a lot of abuse that appears to be going on. Financial - we share an account but I am not allowed to ask about his transactions, and I am guilted for spending too much at the grocery store…meanwhile he spends more in weed a week than we do on childcare. He also makes substantially more than I do, and likes to remind me of this often. Just yesterday he, in not exact words, told me that my job was irrelevant - that he had done it 15 years ago and that I was making a big deal out of it as if it were important. Sexual coercion - he grabs my hand and places it on his penis, continuously asks for oral sex, but never reciprocates. When I ask, I am told I am too fat, or not clean enough, or whatever the flavor of the day is. I don’t have time to work out all the time nor do I have time to shower every day as I am essentially the sole caretaker of our son, I work, and I am the primary home cleaner (except on the weekend, but he will verbally degrade me while cleaning). But when he asks, he does not take no for an answer. He is incessant. I eventually give in, because I just can’t handle being asked anymore. Verbal and emotional abuse - he told me yesterday that I have the devil in me, he has told me that I am a bad mother because I care more about getting my “pussy rubbed” (by him) than our son, all because I asked for us to be more intimate. He actually told our 8 month old this, directly. But the most recent thing (since we’ve gotten married) is that I am a disobedient wife, a shit talker (when I stand up for myself), and rebellious. I am often told what is and is not acceptable to wear. And, on more than one occasion, he has talked degradingly to me in front of others, but not enough to cause others to say anything. Or maybe they just don’t care…I can’t figure it out. Usually it is behind closed doors, though. Religious abuse: he uses one portion of a text from the Bible to tell me that I must be obedient to him and to quit questioning him. Again, the devil comment. Physical endangerment: when driving, he will drive erratically - sometimes with no hands on the wheel, but usually speeding and weaving in and out of traffic with both our son and myself in the car. Sometimes all of the above.
I have a plethora of text screenshots where he is just so vile it makes me physically ill, a video of him screaming at me in front of our son, and he was pulled over for doing 60 or 65 (I cannot directly recall) in a 35 WHILE ON THE PHONE. Both myself and our son were in the backseat. I even consulted with a priest from the Church we got married in, who advised me to leave him.
I don’t know what to do with this, if it would even do anything, but most of all, I cannot bring myself to leave him. I am afraid and alone - my family is scattered throughout the country and no one is able to help me financially.
Yesterday I went to visit his family with him and he wanted to be the one who walked in holding our son….it was the first time he’d held him that entire day, despite having been home for hours. My son was very upset seeing so many people - as soon as he started to cry, my husband handed our son to me to comfort him, rather than doing it, himself. But seeing my son interact with his family made my heart ache. Everyone loves our son, but I felt so guilty for thinking of taking my husband to court for a divorce and seeking full custody of our son earlier that day.
I’m just tired, lost, but I still find myself wishing this marriage could work. I want the man I fell in love with, before we got married.

Sorry if title is a bit crass… Sunday morning got up. Used the restroom. Took a shower started getting ready for the day. Sitting at the table with a bit of toast and WHAM!!!! massive pain. Next three hours writhing in pain, throwing up, sweating like crazy, hurt all over. Tried pooping some just to relieve the pressure. No luck.
Wife gets home and I decide it’s time for the ER. I can barely function, thank God for a great wife.
We get checked in, I’m delirious with pain. They inject anti-nausea medicine and pain killer. Take me down for a CT scan. Kidney stones. More morphine and more anti-nausea. As they kick in, I’m in and out of sleep while they get all the details wrapped up.
Two stones, one from each side. One is 4mm and almost in the bladder, other is 3mm and in the ureter.
Leave with a prescription of oxycodene (I think) and recommendation for ibuprofen.
Since home I’ve had some more moments of pain and nausea. Drinking a ton. Haven’t passed any stones yet.
But… I also haven’t had a bowel movement since Sunday morning. Granted, I haven’t eaten much since then, no appetite. But, still seems like something should’ve moved.
Is this typical?
TL:DR- Kidney stone pain started Sunday, haven’t pooped since then. Like 55 hours ago.

Hey my name's Sean (m/24), would some of yall be interested in creating a gaming group? Something like H20 delirious and his friends or berleezy and his squad? recently decided to give YouTube a real chance and so far it's been going well even reaching 2k views on of my videos. I want to do co op and multiplayer games but no longer have a gaming group and my closest friends just don't currently have the time to play like I do. Ultimately l'd just like to find new people I can game and vibe with, any race/sex/sexuality is cool only requirement is that we vibe well. I play anything and everything and yes I do cuss like a sailor but l'm working on being more family friendly for the YouTube algorithm. If anyone wants to check out my youtube before texting back

Hey my name's Sean (m/24), would some of yall be interested in creating a gaming group? Something like H20 delirious and his friends or berleezy and his squad? recently decided to give YouTube a real chance and so far it's been going well even reaching 2k views on of my videos. I want to do co op and multiplayer games but no longer have a gaming group and my closest friends just don't currently have the time to play like I do. Ultimately l'd just like to find new people I can game and vibe with, any race/sex/sexuality is cool only requirement is that we vibe well. I play anything and everything and yes I do cuss like a sailor but l'm working on being more family friendly for the YouTube algorithm. If anyone wants to check out my youtube before texting back

On my 3rd leg of flights for 16 hours, in a delirious state and that just got me so stoked I had to wake my wife up. Sorry babe.

Season 2 Finale
“You look worried Bruce,” my producer jokes, moments before going live. “Even for you.”
This gets a chuckle from the crew.
“Quiet on the set!”
I’m already shaking in my shoes. Not a good sign. Working for the Devil is extremely stressful. And dangerous. And certainly not for the faint of heart. Why I took this gig is beyond me.
(Cue creepy music)
“Going live in five…four…three…”
I get the nod.
(Cut to camera one)
“Greetings Hell Beings and hell raisers. Welcome to the Season 2 finale of….”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
I wave my arms in the air.
The audience jumps to their feet.
Someone heckles.
“Alright. Knock it off.”
I serve up my best game show-host grin. It looks as fake as this cheap Hollywood studio.
“As you probably know, my name is Bruce Davie, and I’m the host of…”
(Cue audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
There’s a disturbance in the audience. A crew member forcefully removes someone. The commotion settles, and I get the go-ahead.
“Phew! A feisty crowd tonight!”
My painted-on smile takes up the entire screen. So does my gleaming bald head.
“Now I know what you’re thinking. What’s the Devil got in store for us this evening?”
The audience rumbles.
I shrug.
“Honestly, I wish I knew!”
This is true. But I’m sure it has something to do with me spending an eternity in Hell. It’s right there in my contract, which runs out after this episode.
(Cut to camera two)
“So, without further ado, let’s bring out tonight’s contestants, shall we?”
The audience roars.
“And yes, you heard me correctly. Tonight, for the first time ever in this show’s defamatory history, we’ve got two contestants!”
Audience is on their feet, whooping and hollering.
(Cut to camera three)
(Cue music)
A middle-aged couple promenade towards the podium. They’re dressed like cowboys, and walk with a sense of purpose.
(Split screen)
“Welcome, both of you.”
More like: Welcome to your funeral.
“Tell us a wee bit about yourselves, why don’t you?”
(Cut to camera four)
The woman speaks first. Her hair is amber, her complexion as pale as light beer.
“Well, Bruce. My name is Tammy. I’m a stay-at-home mom. This here’s my partner, Tex. He owns his own gun shop. We live in Austin Texas, with three beautiful children, who are with us here tonight.”
She points.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Two tall boys and a young girl, each dressed head-to-toe in denim, stand and bow.
The audience applauds.
(Split screen)
The other contestant approaches the microphone. He’s as tall as an ivory tower, with a voice like a banjo.
“Howdy Bruce. Good to be here.”
He tilts his cowboy hat. His square jaw and rugged good looks give Chuck Norris a run for his money.
I salute them.
(Cut to camera two)
“Well then, now that we’re finished with the formalities, I do believe it’s time to…”
(Cue audience)
“BRING OUT THE DEVIL.”
(Cue creepy music)
(Cue pyrotechnics)
The stage fills with fire and brimstone. Pentagrams slice through the air. The Devil appears suddenly, dressed in a shiny new devil suit, tailored specifically for tonight’s show. It’s jet-black, and leaves little to the imagination. His pitchforked tail follows closely behind him as he approaches the podium.
(Cut to Camera five)
The Devil wraps his arms around the two contestants, kisses them both on the cheek.
Tex, clearly perturbed, winces, then grudgingly wipes his cheek.
The Devil snarls, then looks him up and down.
“Looks like everything isn’t bigger in Texas,” the Devil teases. Suddenly, he’s grown over eight-feet tall, and is looming over the tall Texan.
(Cut to camera three)
The bright lights and furious makeup make me look like a cartoon.
“What an exciting night this promises to be!”
Tammy steps forward.
“You bet it is, Bruce. We’ve watched every episode. We just love…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
(Cut to camera three)
“Of course!” Damion boasts. “This is Hell’s most popular show. And for good reason.”
He slaps the woman’s backside with his tail, then raises his eyebrows mockingly.
The cowboy puffs out his chest, fists clenched, daring him to touch his wife again.
“Woah, easy there pardner.”
Damion nudges Tex.
Tammy is flushed. “Don’t mind Tex. He’s the jealous kind.”
“Oh really?”
Damion’s tail is now shaped like a lasso. With it, he snags Tammy and pulls her close. Her face turns tomato-red.
The cowboy grunts, pulling it off with one strong swoop.
The audience boos.
The Devil snickers.
I feel sick. If this is to be my last episode (or final day on Earth), I don’t want it spoiled by this denim-clad dude whose hat is bigger than his brains, or by Damion, who seems extra feisty tonight. Even for him.
(Cut to camera one)
I clear my throat.
“Tell us, Tammy and Tex…no, tell all of Hell…what it is your beating hearts desire?”
The audience is on the edge of their seats.
(Split screen)
The Texans exchange doubtful looks.
The wife takes charge.
“Well Bruce,” Tammy says. “We don’t want anything that might get us killed. Being from Dallas, we were raised with some common sense.”
The audience hisses.
(Cut to camera five)
The husband steps up.
“That’s right, Bruce. Simply put, we want to be famous for a day. That’s it. Then we can write a book and live off the royalties.”
The audience erupts into a frenzy of catcalls.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil’s eyebrows touch the top of his head. His voice slithers like a snake.
“Is that so?”
My heart plummets. These Texans are flirting with disaster. If they’d stuck to the script, they might be safe. They were supposed to ask for a lifetime’s supply of Super Bowl tickets. Easy-peasy. Who do these cowpokes think they are? Do they really think they can outsmart the Devil?
“Well then,” I say, shakily. “I’m sure Damion can arrange that.”
I raise my arms.
“What does the audience think?”
The audience goes ballistic.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil, still towering over the Texans, leans into the camera.
“Famous, eh?”
His lips smack against his face. When he touches the dude’s shoulder, the cowboy swipes his arm away.
The audience boos. Someone tosses an egg onto the podium, narrowly missing the contestants.
“Woah! Easy does it!” I spurt out.
All hell breaks loose.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The crew gets busy, disposing of both the egg and the agitator.
(Cut to camera one)
I wipe my sweaty forehead.
“Tough crowd.”
The audience hoots.
The Devil sneers.
“SILENCE!”
Flames flash across the room.
People shriek, including me.
(Close up of Damion)
The Devil, boasting his gambler’s grin, turns to the contestants.
“Yes, yes. You WILL be famous. But just for one day.”
The audience roars their approval.
I shudder. Never in all my years, have I felt so much animosity from an audience. I’ll be lucky to make it out alive.
(Split screen)
“Sounds like the Devil has a plan.”
I try to sound cheerful. But cheerfulness is the opposite of how I feel.
(Cut to camera one)
“Tell us Damion…and all of Hell…what you’ve got cooked up?”
The audience leans in.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil winks at Tammy.
“Well, I do believe it’s time for those two cowpokes to become famous. Am I correct?”
The audience jumps to their feet, chanting: “FAMOUS.… FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.…”
(Split screen)
Tammy looks pleased. Her partner, on the other hand, is showing concern. His shoulders are tense, he’s swallowed his bottom lip.
Damion dazzles the audience.
“Famous, y’all shall be.”
He snaps his fingers.
BAM.
The studio goes dark.
Someone in the audience screams.
Tammy gasps.
Tex grunts.
(Cut to camera one)
I shrug.
Is this Damion’s latest trick? Or did they finally cut the power? We give the impression that this show is hugely popular; but in truth, outside of Hell, this show is a dud. Cable and internet companies avoid us like the plague.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestants vanish under a cloud of fog.
A flaming pentagram floats across the stage.
“Well, isn’t that just dandy!”
The Devil points to the large screen behind the audience.
“Mister and Missus Cowpoke are about to jump the falls!”
He snaps his fingers, then he disappears.
My legs go weak. My heart is beating irregularly again. I still don’t know he does it. How any of this works. Suddenly, I’m alone on stage, shaking in my fine Italian boots, while the audience grows rowdier by the second.
Cameras mounted on drones are pointed at Tammy and Tex, who are trapped inside a large, steel barrel, with Niagara Falls looming below them.
Damion flies across the falls, lands next to Tammy and Tex. He taps the barrel.
“Ain’t she a beauty?”
The audience hurrahs.
The barrel is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Although it’s huge, and probably weighs a ton, it barely contains the two Texans, who are kicking and screaming, cursing up a storm.
“Get me the hell out of here!” Tammy’s voice rips through the noise of the falls. “NOW!”
Damion frowns.
“You wanted to be famous. Am I right?”
The audience chants, “FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.… FAMOUS….”
Tex pokes his head out of the barrel, cowboy hat and all.
“Now wait one minute, Damion. That’s unfair. We wanted fame. Not death.”
The Devil chuckles.
“The two are synonymous, am I right?”
The audience agrees.
Damion checks his watch.
“Well then…”
He slams the lid shut.
That’s the end of the Texans, as far as I’m concerned.
(Close up of Damion)
“Whatcha think? Should they jump the falls?”
The audience shouts, “JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP….”
(Cut to camera two)
My insides are melting. I’m petrified. You’d think working with the Devil would get easier over time. You’d be dead wrong.
“Looks like the people have spoken!” I hear myself say.
The audience continues their chant.
(Cut to overhead camera)
“Excellent,” Damion says, fiddling his fingers.
He looks over the cliff, and makes a sour face.
“Wowsers. That’s a long way down!”
“JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP….”
“And so much water!”
(Cut to camera one)
My worried-sick face appears on the screen.
I straighten up.
“Once they jump, Tam and Tex will surely be famous!”
Except of course, they won’t be famous. Not in this world anyways. They’ve been duped. Why these people sign up to die is beyond me. Perhaps we’ve reached a spectacular level of stupidity in human evolution.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion’s lips stretch across his reddened face, his arms flex like a weightlifter.
“I’ll give them a helping hand.”
He rolls the giant barrel to the very edge of the cliff, ignoring the banging and hollering coming from within the steel coffin.
“Tammy, Tex…” His lips stretch into a snarl. “Prepare for fame!”
The audience is on their feet.
Damion shoves the barrel over the edge.
(Split screen)
The barrel tumbles down the falls, disappearing into the fast-moving water.
The audience holds its breath.
(Cut to spy camera)
Inside the barrel, the Texans are shrieking. Their heads and arms and legs collide. Chunks of puke pour across Tammy’s sickening face, who’s calling Tex every name in the book, and it’s a big book. Meanwhile, Tex is like a frog in a blender. His face is green, his nose is broken; blood is leaking from every orifice.
There’s a loud crash as the barrel plunders underwater.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The barrel resurfaces, traveling dangerously downstream.
The audience is back on their feet, fist-pumping.
(Split screen)
What troubles me is how the pedestrians and tourists, crowding the streets, remain oblivious. To them, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody watches, or even takes a pic. I’m starting to suspect foul play. Somehow, Damion is controlling this. He’s using dark magic. A spell. Maybe none of this is real. Except of course, it is real.
(Cut to camera one)
I’m trembling.
“What a jump!” my voice ricochets off the studio walls. “They’ll be famous in no time!”
The audience chants:
“FAMOUS…. FAMOUS…. FAMOUS….”
(Closeup of the Devil)
“Yes, yes. An excellent jump, I must say.”
He peaks over the edge.
“Looks like they could use some help.”
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion flies towards the barrel, which is bouncing off rocks and debris.
(Cut to spy camera)
Blood. So much blood in such a tight space. Tammy’s hair is in disarray. Her face is beyond repair. Tex swallowed his hat. One of his eyeballs is bouncing like a Superball. His left arm is flapping nonsensically. It isn’t attached.
(Cut to camera four)
The Devil scoops up the barrel, then flies to shore. When his feet touch the ground, he shakes off the water, cat-like, then glares at the camera.
“What a jump!”
He cranks open the lip.
(Split screen)
Tammy spills out. So does Tex’s left arm.
The audience gasps.
Damion applauds.
“Such valor and swagger!”
(Cut to camera five)
Tammy is flopping fish-like, barely clinging to life. Her mouth is full of blood and brains.
The Devil puts his foot on her head.
“SAY CHEESE.”
From out of nowhere, a photographer appears.
SNAP.
Damion, looking pleased with himself, is suddenly holding a newspaper.
(Closeup of newspaper)
The headline splashes across the screen: IDIOTS JUMP THE FALLS.
(Cut to camera four)
Damion shoves the newspaper in front of her face.
“Looks like Tammy and Tex are famous.”
Tammy's eyes twitch. Clearly, she needs medical assistance. I’m surprised she’s still alive. Her husbands brains are splattered across the inside of the barrel.
The very sight of this makes me gag.
Tammy tries to speak, but fails. Her eyes are filled with rage.
Damion tosses the leftover arm into the water, then shrugs.
“Sorry about your hubby.”
(Cut to camera two)
With wobbly knees, I face the audience.
“Looks like the barrel got the best of Tex!”
The audience bellows.
I continue to talk involuntarily.
“Gosh dolly. Look at all that blood!”
“MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD….”
I find myself chanting along.
Suddenly, my vision blurs. I clutch my chest. Maybe I’ll suffer a heart attack on live TV. Hell waits for no one, I suppose.
(Cut to camera four)
Tammy spits blood on Damion’s boot.
“Devil be damned.” I blurt.
Damion’s face twists into a ball of fury.
“Now, now, Tammy. That wasn’t very nice.”
He crushes her fingers with his boots.
Tammy yelps.
“I was gonna save your long-limbed partner over there,” he points. “Not anymore!”
The audience is bloodthirsty. Paper airplanes and rotten eggs whizz past me. I duck just in time.
(Closeup of contestant)
Tammy’s tongue is leaking from her bloodied face. She’s missing her front teeth. Damion digs his spiky heel deep into her blood-soaked abdomen.
“I reckon you’ll need medical assistance.”
He snaps his fingers.
Suddenly, they're back in the studio.
Damion is as happy as a filthy pig. Next to him is Tammy, who’s caked in blood and gore. Her corpse-of-a-husband spills from the gigantic steel barrel, taking center stage.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestant’s children rush the stage. They’re delirious.
The crew hurry out and drag them aside, along with Tammy, who's rushed to the hospital, where she will certainly die.
“Now that’s what I call speedy service!”
My voice appalls me. So does this job. If only I’d listened to my mother, and got into politics.
Damion snaps his finger, then disappears under a plume of dusty smoke.
(Cut to camera one)
“Well, there you have it folks. That’s the last you’ll see of Tammy and Tex. But fret not, they had their moment of fame…in Hell!”
The audience is tossing trash onto the stage.
I narrowly dodge a projectile.
“Hope you’ve enjoyed Season Two as much as I did.”
I hated it.
“And, unless the Devil strikes me down,” and he very-well might, “I hope to see you this Fall, for Season Three of…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
Season Two
Season One

Season 2 Finale
“You look worried Bruce,” my producer jokes, moments before going live. “Even for you.”
This gets a chuckle from the crew.
“Quiet on the set!”
I’m already shaking in my shoes. Not a good sign. Working for the Devil is extremely stressful. And dangerous. And certainly not for the faint of heart. Why I took this gig is beyond me.
(Cue creepy music)
“Going live in five…four…three…”
I get the nod.
(Cut to camera one)
“Greetings Hell Beings and hell raisers. Welcome to the Season 2 finale of….”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
I wave my arms in the air.
The audience jumps to their feet.
Someone heckles.
“Alright. Knock it off.”
I serve up my best game show-host grin. It looks as fake as this cheap Hollywood studio.
“As you probably know, my name is Bruce Davie, and I’m the host of…”
(Cue audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
There’s a disturbance in the audience. A crew member forcefully removes someone. The commotion settles, and I get the go-ahead.
“Phew! A feisty crowd tonight!”
My painted-on smile takes up the entire screen. So does my gleaming bald head.
“Now I know what you’re thinking. What’s the Devil got in store for us this evening?”
The audience rumbles.
I shrug.
“Honestly, I wish I knew!”
This is true. But I’m sure it has something to do with me spending an eternity in Hell. It’s right there in my contract, which runs out after this episode.
(Cut to camera two)
“So, without further ado, let’s bring out tonight’s contestants, shall we?”
The audience roars.
“And yes, you heard me correctly. Tonight, for the first time ever in this show’s defamatory history, we’ve got two contestants!”
Audience is on their feet, whooping and hollering.
(Cut to camera three)
(Cue music)
A middle-aged couple promenade towards the podium. They’re dressed like cowboys, and walk with a sense of purpose.
(Split screen)
“Welcome, both of you.”
More like: Welcome to your funeral.
“Tell us a wee bit about yourselves, why don’t you?”
(Cut to camera four)
The woman speaks first. Her hair is amber, her complexion as pale as light beer.
“Well, Bruce. My name is Tammy. I’m a stay-at-home mom. This here’s my partner, Tex. He owns his own gun shop. We live in Austin Texas, with three beautiful children, who are with us here tonight.”
She points.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Two tall boys and a young girl, each dressed head-to-toe in denim, stand and bow.
The audience applauds.
(Split screen)
The other contestant approaches the microphone. He’s as tall as an ivory tower, with a voice like a banjo.
“Howdy Bruce. Good to be here.”
He tilts his cowboy hat. His square jaw and rugged good looks give Chuck Norris a run for his money.
I salute them.
(Cut to camera two)
“Well then, now that we’re finished with the formalities, I do believe it’s time to…”
(Cue audience)
“BRING OUT THE DEVIL.”
(Cue creepy music)
(Cue pyrotechnics)
The stage fills with fire and brimstone. Pentagrams slice through the air. The Devil appears suddenly, dressed in a shiny new devil suit, tailored specifically for tonight’s show. It’s jet-black, and leaves little to the imagination. His pitchforked tail follows closely behind him as he approaches the podium.
(Cut to Camera five)
The Devil wraps his arms around the two contestants, kisses them both on the cheek.
Tex, clearly perturbed, winces, then grudgingly wipes his cheek.
The Devil snarls, then looks him up and down.
“Looks like everything isn’t bigger in Texas,” the Devil teases. Suddenly, he’s grown over eight-feet tall, and is looming over the tall Texan.
(Cut to camera three)
The bright lights and furious makeup make me look like a cartoon.
“What an exciting night this promises to be!”
Tammy steps forward.
“You bet it is, Bruce. We’ve watched every episode. We just love…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
(Cut to camera three)
“Of course!” Damion boasts. “This is Hell’s most popular show. And for good reason.”
He slaps the woman’s backside with his tail, then raises his eyebrows mockingly. The cowboy puffs out his chest, fists clenched, daring him to touch his wife again.
“Woah, easy there pardner.”
Damion nudges Tex.
Tammy is flushed. “Don’t mind Tex. He’s the jealous kind.”
“Oh really?”
Damion’s tail is now shaped like a lasso. With it, he snags Tammy and pulls her close. Her face turns tomato-red.
The cowboy grunts, pulling it off with one strong swoop.
The audience boos.
The Devil snickers.
I feel sick. If this is to be my last episode (or final day on Earth), I don’t want it spoiled by this denim-clad dude whose hat is bigger than his brains, or by Damion, who seems extra feisty tonight. Even for him.
(Cut to camera one)
I clear my throat.
“Tell us, Tammy and Tex…no, tell all of Hell…what it is your beating hearts desire?”
The audience is on the edge of their seats.
(Split screen)
The Texans exchange doubtful looks.
The wife takes charge.
“Well Bruce,” Tammy says. “We don’t want anything that might get us killed. Being from Dallas, we were raised with some common sense.”
The audience hisses.
(Cut to camera five)
The husband steps up.
“That’s right, Bruce. Simply put, we want to be famous for a day. That’s it. Then we can write a book and live off the royalties.”
The audience erupts into a frenzy of catcalls.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil’s eyebrows touch the top of his head. His voice slithers like a snake.
“Is that so?”
My heart plummets. These Texans are flirting with disaster. If they’d stuck to the script, they might be safe. They were supposed to ask for a lifetime’s supply of Super Bowl tickets. Easy-peasy. Who do these cowpokes think they are? Do they really think they can outsmart the Devil?
“Well then,” I say, shakily. “I’m sure Damion can arrange that.”
I raise my arms.
“What does the audience think?”
The audience goes ballistic.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil, still towering over the Texans, leans into the camera.
“Famous, eh?”
His lips smack against his face. When he touches the dude’s shoulder, the cowboy swipes his arm away.
The audience boos. Someone tosses an egg onto the podium, narrowly missing the contestants.
“Woah! Easy does it!” I spurt out.
All hell breaks loose.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The crew gets busy, disposing of both the egg and the agitator.
(Cut to camera one)
I wipe my sweaty forehead.
“Tough crowd.”
The audience hoots.
The Devil sneers.
“SILENCE!”
Flames flash across the room.
People shriek, including me.
(Close up of Damion)
The Devil, boasting his gambler’s grin, turns to the contestants.
“Yes, yes. You WILL be famous. But just for one day.”
The audience roars their approval.
I shudder. Never in all my years, have I felt so much animosity from an audience. I’ll be lucky to make it out alive.
(Split screen)
“Sounds like the Devil has a plan.”
I try to sound cheerful. But cheerfulness is the opposite of how I feel.
(Cut to camera one)
“Tell us Damion…and all of Hell…what you’ve got cooked up?”
The audience leans in.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil winks at Tammy.
“Well, I do believe it’s time for those two cowpokes to become famous. Am I correct?”
The audience jumps to their feet, chanting: “FAMOUS.… FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.…”
(Split screen)
Tammy looks pleased. Her partner, on the other hand, is showing concern. His shoulders are tense, he’s swallowed his bottom lip.
Damion dazzles the audience.
“Famous, y’all shall be.”
He snaps his fingers.
BAM.
The studio goes dark.
Someone in the audience screams.
Tammy gasps.
Tex grunts.
(Cut to camera one)
I shrug.
Is this Damion’s latest trick? Or did they finally cut the power? We give the impression that this show is hugely popular; but in truth, outside of Hell, this show is a dud. Cable and internet companies avoid us like the plague.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestants vanish under a cloud of fog.
A flaming pentagram floats across the stage.
“Well, isn’t that just dandy!”
The Devil points to the large screen behind the audience.
“Mister and Missus Cowpoke are about to jump the falls!”
He snaps his fingers, then he disappears.
My legs go weak. My heart is beating irregularly again. I still don’t know he does it. How any of this works. Suddenly, I’m alone on stage, shaking in my fine Italian boots, while the audience grows rowdier by the second.
Cameras mounted on drones are pointed at Tammy and Tex, who are trapped inside a large, steel barrel, with Niagara Falls looming below them.
Damion flies across the falls, lands next to Tammy and Tex.
He taps the barrel.
“Ain’t she a beauty?”
The audience hurrahs.
The barrel is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Although it’s huge, and probably weighs a ton, it barely contains the two Texans, who are kicking and screaming, cursing up a storm.
“Get me the hell out of here!” Tammy’s voice rips through the noise of the falls. “NOW!”
Damion frowns.
“You wanted to be famous. Am I right?”
The audience chants, “FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.… FAMOUS….”
Tex pokes his head out of the barrel, cowboy hat and all.
“Now wait one minute, Damion. That’s unfair. We wanted fame. Not death.”
The Devil chuckles.
“The two are synonymous, am I right?”
The audience agrees.
Damion checks his watch.
“Well then...”
He slams the lid shut.
That’s the end of the Texans, as far as I’m concerned.
(Close up of Damion)
“Whatcha think? Should they jump the falls?”
The audience shouts, “JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP….”
(Cut to camera two)
My insides are melting. I’m petrified. You’d think working with the Devil would get easier over time. You’d be dead wrong.
“Looks like the people have spoken!” I hear myself say.
The audience continues their chant.
(Cut to overhead camera)
“Excellent,” Damion says, fiddling his fingers.
He looks over the cliff, and makes a sour face.
“Wowsers. That’s a long way down!”
“JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP....”
“And so much water!”
(Cut to camera one)
My worried-sick face appears on the screen.
I straighten up.
“Once they jump, Tam and Tex will surely be famous!”
Except of course, they won’t be famous. Not in this world anyways. They’ve been duped. Why these people sign up to die is beyond me. Perhaps we’ve reached a spectacular level of stupidity in human evolution.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion’s lips stretch across his reddened face, his arms flex like a weightlifter.
“I’ll give them a helping hand.”
He rolls the giant barrel to the very edge of the cliff, ignoring the banging and hollering coming from within the steel coffin.
“Tammy, Tex…” His lips stretch into a snarl. “Prepare for fame!”
The audience is on their feet.
Damion shoves the barrel over the edge.
(Split screen)
The barrel tumbles down the falls, disappearing into the fast-moving water.
The audience holds its breath.
(Cut to spy camera)
Inside the barrel, the Texans are shrieking. Their heads and arms and legs collide. Chunks of puke pour across Tammy’s sickening face, who’s calling Tex every name in the book, and it’s a big book. Meanwhile, Tex is like a frog in a blender. His face is green, his nose is broken; blood is leaking from every orifice.
There’s a loud crash as the barrel plunders underwater.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The barrel resurfaces, traveling dangerously downstream.
The audience is back on their feet, fist-pumping.
(Split screen)
What troubles me is how the pedestrians and tourists, crowding the streets, remain oblivious. To them, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody watches, or even takes a pic. I’m starting to suspect foul play. Somehow, Damion is controlling this. He’s using dark magic. A spell. Maybe none of this is real. Except of course, it is real.
(Cut to camera one)
I’m trembling.
“What a jump!” my voice ricochets off the studio walls. “They’ll be famous in no time!”
The audience chants:
“FAMOUS…. FAMOUS…. FAMOUS….”
(Closeup of the Devil)
“Yes, yes. An excellent jump, I must say.”
He peaks over the edge.
“Looks like they could use some help.”
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion flies towards the barrel, which is bouncing off rocks and debris.
(Cut to spy camera)
Blood. So much blood in such a tight space. Tammy’s hair is in disarray. Her face is beyond repair. Tex swallowed his hat. One of his eyeballs is bouncing like a Superball. His left arm is flapping nonsensically. It isn’t attached.
(Cut to camera four)
The Devil scoops up the barrel, then flies to shore. When his feet touch the ground, he shakes off the water, cat-like, then glares at the camera.
“What a jump!”
He cranks open the lip.
(Split screen)
Tammy spills out. So does Tex’s left arm.
The audience gasps.
Damion applauds.
“Such valor and swagger!”
(Cut to camera five)
Tammy is flopping fish-like, barely clinging to life. Her mouth is full of blood and brains.
The Devil puts his foot on her head.
“SAY CHEESE.”
From out of nowhere, a photographer appears.
SNAP.
Damion, looking pleased with himself, is suddenly holding a newspaper.
(Closeup of newspaper)
The headline splashes across the screen: IDIOTS JUMP THE FALLS.
(Cut to camera four)
Damion shoves the newspaper in front of her face.
“Looks like Tammy and Tex are famous.”
Tammy's eyes twitch. Clearly, she needs medical assistance. I’m surprised she’s still alive. Her husbands brains are splattered across the inside of the barrel. The very sight of this makes me gag.
Tammy tries to speak, but fails. Her eyes are filled with rage.
Damion tosses the leftover arm into the water, then shrugs.
“Sorry about your hubby.”
(Cut to camera two)
With wobbly knees, I face the audience.
“Looks like the barrel got the best of Tex!”
The audience bellows.
I continue to talk involuntarily.
“Gosh dolly. Look at all that blood!”
“MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD….”
I find myself chanting along.
Suddenly, my vision blurs. I clutch my chest. Maybe I’ll suffer a heart attack on live TV. Hell waits for no one, I suppose.
(Cut to camera four)
Tammy spits blood on Damion’s boot.
“Devil be damned.” I blurt.
Damion’s face twists into a ball of fury.
“Now, now, Tammy. That wasn’t very nice.”
He crushes her fingers with his boots.
Tammy yelps.
“I was gonna save your long-limbed partner over there,” he points. “Not anymore!”
The audience is bloodthirsty. Paper airplanes and rotten eggs whizz past me. I duck just in time.
(Closeup of contestant)
Tammy’s tongue is leaking from her bloodied face. She’s missing her front teeth. Damion digs his spiky heel deep into her blood-soaked abdomen.
“I reckon you’ll need medical assistance.”
He snaps his fingers.
Suddenly, they're back in the studio.
Damion is as happy as a filthy pig. Next to him is Tammy, who’s caked in blood and gore. Her corpse-of-a-husband spills from the gigantic steel barrel, taking center stage.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestant’s children rush the stage. They’re delirious.
The crew hurry out and drag them aside, along with Tammy, who's rushed to the hospital, where she will certainly die.
“Now that’s what I call speedy service!”
My voice appalls me. So does this job. If only I’d listened to my mother, and got into politics.
Damion snaps his finger, then disappears under a plume of dusty smoke.
(Cut to camera one)
“Well, there you have it folks. That’s the last you’ll see of Tammy and Tex. But fret not, they had their moment of fame…in Hell!”
The audience is tossing trash onto the stage.
I narrowly dodge a projectile.
“Hope you’ve enjoyed Season Two as much as I did.”
I hated it.
“And, unless the Devil strikes me down,” and he very-well might, “I hope to see you this Fall, for Season Three of…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
Season Two
Season One

Hello friends, Please help me solve this puzzle. Every once in a while for close to 20 years I scour the internet for any sign of a Pixar style short film that I saw. It was very late at night, I had young kids and I was delirious some of the time but I’m 100% sure this wasn’t a dream.
This is my best description of what I thought I saw. I hope I remember it correctly, some of it could be my imagination. I just can’t believe after all this time I’ve never been able to find it. I haven’t looked since last summer. I’ve given up hope but if anyone can solve this it’s the fine people of Reddit!
The story very much reminds me of the movie UP, but I’m positive I haven’t confused it with the film I’m looking for. It’s way too dark for Disney.
Old man and his wife live in a perfect little cottage style home with a front porch and a picket fence. Wife gets sick and passes away. The old fellow is very depressed when a cat starts coming around. I think he’s annoyed with it initially but must let her into the house eventually because as he’s about to swallow a bottle of pills the cat comes along and knocks them on the floor and saves his life. The cat was his wife reincarnated!
I’m guessing it was about fifteen minutes long and I’m sure there was no words spoken. I feel like it was all set to piano music and it may have been in black and white. This was probably on a cable station like AMC or Showcase late at night after a feature movie.

Hi everyone, first time poster here. Apologies for the mammoth post…
I’m a 34M from the UK, and although I’ve spent all my years feeling like a fish out of water, it wasn’t until the combined build up of moving in with my (now) wife, having a kid, pressures from work and then finally a global pandemic, that I finally started to ‘break down’, and the coping mechanisms I’d both consciously and unconsciously developed over the years failed me.
Obviously I’d never been a ‘perfect normal person’, but I was at least passable - especially for myself, I always assumed I was just an ‘introvert’ and (stupidly - in hindsight) assumed everyone else around me must just be an extrovert - until I wasn’t.
So, as I do with most things, I went down the rabbit hole, in search for answers. After doing some digging, ADHD seemed like a possibility. It explained a lot of my traits, it was clear that it could go unnoticed as a child and it could become more apparent with the pressures of adulthood.
So, after a few months of research and evidence gathering, I applied for a private ADHD diagnosis (NHS waitlist too long), and was diagnosed with ADHD combined type.
The diagnosis has been helpful, and I feel somewhat functional again. However, I still have a lingering feeling that there’s something more. Because while ADHD explains a good amount of my traits, there are some aspects of me that don’t fit with ADHD and aren’t ‘normal’.
So I began to research again, and, much like I realised ADHD isn’t just ‘naughty little boys’ when I began researching that, I soon discovered that Autism is more than what’s depicted in media.
Interestingly (and frustratingly, as it didn’t cross my mind before ADHD), Autism has been ‘suggested’ to me a few times in my life, but in such a ‘passing thought’ kind of way, that it just went unnoticed at the time.
I’m from a small town in the north of England, which I think is a contributing factor as to why my parents or close family ever connected the dots. None of my traits were ever a symptom of something, but just ‘me being me’.
Anyway, this is a long winded way of me saying, I know you can’t diagnose me, and I’m still working on researching and gathering info on it, but heres what I’ve noted so far, please tell me I’m not insane 😩 _____
I've always had sensory sensitivities, especially to loud and repetitive noises since childhood. Fluorescent lighting is uncomfortable for me, as is physical contact - I don’t mind it, but it’s not first on my list of things to do. Unusual sensations on my skin, such as stickiness or wetness, discomfort me, and I've disliked the seams in socks and ‘sharp’ clothing tags since I was little. High temperatures, anything above 18c, also bothers me, summer is the worst.
I still do it a little bit now, but I often walked on my tiptoes as a child, a habit noticed by my parents but never associated with any particular condition. Communicating can be a challenge for me; I can often seem unapproachable even when I don't mean to, and I have a habit of correcting minor details even when not asked. Small talk is difficult, and I much prefer one-on-one interactions with someone I know, about topics of interest, over trying to talk in a group. If theres other noise or someone else talking while I’m trying to talk or hear someone else, it basically feels impossible to speak.
I often replay conversations in my head, wondering how they could've gone better, or I’d daydream about fake scenarios where I’m ‘super smooth’ in situations that would never happen, and by daydream, i mean go over it in great detail, often adding more details along the way and re-starting it to ensure i play out the daydream with all that detail in tact. I enjoy it, but it’s also extremely exhausting sometimes.
People have said I don't express my emotions enough, especially at times when it’s expected to show excitement etc, and I frequently feel misunderstood or misinterpreted. Sudden changes or short notice plans cause me a lot of stress and anxiety. As a child I’d often be described as an 'old soul', and I have a strong sense of justice and fairness. I've experienced selective mutism, decision paralysis, and I’m sure I’ve been in burnout for the last year, from trying to meet other's expectations.
When I'm learning something new, I enjoy doing extensive research on the topic. I often ask others to clarify their questions before I answer, and I sometimes experience exhausting loops of songs or phrases in my mind, which is most frustrating when trying to sleep, makes you feel a bit delirious.
I exhibit behaviors that could suggest OCD, such as drinking in sets of four sips and needing the volume control to be on an even number. I also have physical habits like rubbing my face or eyes, skin picking, and 'vibrating' those eye muscles that make it sound like thunder in your head.
As a child, I also enjoyed looking at lens flares through my eyelashes and aligning objects from my perspective, eg when looking out of a window I’d line up the roof of a house with the edge of window blind slat. I've experienced dissociation and meltdowns and can easily get overwhelmed.
Social situations tire me out and make me hyper-aware of my body language and facial expressions. I tend to avoid these situations and am uncomfortable with guests, especially unexpected guests, in my home. When I do interact with others, I often fiddle with objects and struggle with eye contact.
I've always felt like an outsider and have tried various ways to fit in, or at least to feel somewhat adjacent to fitting in - I learnt magic tricks and became know as the ‘magic guy’ at school, didn’t really make me any friends, but it did feel good to purposefully bamboozle people for a change.
When I started high school, I studied body language, to try and learn to understand people better, as I finished school and began 6th form, I found myself mimicking peers who I thought were 'cool', and even researching pick-up artist techniques, in an attempt to try and ‘reinvent’ myself. I also realised that I used to kind of ‘absorb’ some of the personality of tv show characters I liked, I remember feeling like I was able to just watch something and then be able to copy it.
Despite these efforts, I still feel like I'm on the outside looking in, unable to fully participate.
Justice and fairness are extremely important to me, and I often feel like I'm the only one in my environment who cares about these values.
At work, I was nicknamed ‘the oracle’ and I’m seen at the person who can answer any questions someone might have. This became a big issue for me and lead to me feeling burnt out, as people would often literally use me instead of Google, for IT issues etc (I’m not in IT), people like to blow smoke and act like they come to me because I’m smart and I know ‘everything’, but for me it feels more like everyone is lazy and also disrespectful of my time since every question I’m asked takes time away from my actual role. It’s exhausting.
Unless I’m starving, I struggle to recognize when I'm hungry.
As a child, I used to take apart toys to understand how they worked. I often feel misunderstood when I try to provide context or explanations for my actions, as others see them as excuses, but I fail to see how having more context in order to form an opinion could be anything but a good thing.
——
That’s what I’ve put together so far, but I also need to dig out the notes that I put together for my ADHD research, as a lot of that would be relevant too. It’s frustrating that when you apply for a diagnosis, unless you want to pay a literal fortune, they only look out for what you asked for… wasteful.

Hi everyone, first time poster here. Apologies for the mammoth post…
I’m a 34M from the UK, and although I’ve spent all my years feeling like a fish out of water, it wasn’t until the combined build up of moving in with my (now) wife, having a kid, pressures from work and then finally a global pandemic, that I finally started to ‘break down’, and the coping mechanisms I’d both consciously and unconsciously developed over the years failed me.
Obviously I’d never been a ‘perfect normal person’, but I was at least passable - especially for myself, I always assumed I was just an ‘introvert’ and (stupidly - in hindsight) assumed everyone else around me must just be an extrovert - until I wasn’t.
So, as I do with most things, I went down the rabbit hole, in search for answers. After doing some digging, ADHD seemed like a possibility. It explained a lot of my traits, it was clear that it could go unnoticed as a child and it could become more apparent with the pressures of adulthood.
So, after a few months of research and evidence gathering, I applied for a private ADHD diagnosis (NHS waitlist too long), and was diagnosed with ADHD combined type.
The diagnosis has been helpful, and I feel somewhat functional again. However, I still have a lingering feeling that there’s something more. Because while ADHD explains a good amount of my traits, there are some aspects of me that don’t fit with ADHD and aren’t ‘normal’.
So I began to research again, and, much like I realised ADHD isn’t just ‘naughty little boys’ when I began researching that, I soon discovered that Autism is more than what’s depicted in media.
Interestingly (and frustratingly, as it didn’t cross my mind before ADHD), Autism has been ‘suggested’ to me a few times in my life, but in such a ‘passing thought’ kind of way, that it just went unnoticed at the time.
I’m from a small town in the north of England, which I think is a contributing factor as to why my parents or close family ever connected the dots. None of my traits were ever a symptom of something, but just ‘me being me’.
Anyway, this is a long winded way of me saying, I know you can’t diagnose me, and I’m still working on researching and gathering info on it, but heres what I’ve noted so far, please tell me I’m not insane 😩
I've always had sensory sensitivities, especially to loud and repetitive noises since childhood. Fluorescent lighting is uncomfortable for me, as is physical contact - I don’t mind it, but it’s not first on my list of things to do. Unusual sensations on my skin, such as stickiness or wetness, discomfort me, and I've disliked the seams in socks and ‘sharp’ clothing tags since I was little. High temperatures, anything above 18c, also bothers me, summer is the worst.
I still do it a little bit now, but I often walked on my tiptoes as a child, a habit noticed by my parents but never associated with any particular condition. Communicating can be a challenge for me; I can often seem unapproachable even when I don't mean to, and I have a habit of correcting minor details even when not asked. Small talk is difficult, and I much prefer one-on-one interactions with someone I know, about topics of interest, over trying to talk in a group. If theres other noise or someone else talking while I’m trying to talk or hear someone else, it basically feels impossible to speak.
I often replay conversations in my head, wondering how they could've gone better, or I’d daydream about fake scenarios where I’m ‘super smooth’ in situations that would never happen, and by daydream, i mean go over it in great detail, often adding more details along the way and re-starting it to ensure i play out the daydream with all that detail in tact. I enjoy it, but it’s also extremely exhausting sometimes.
People have said I don't express my emotions enough, especially at times when it’s expected to show excitement etc, and I frequently feel misunderstood or misinterpreted. Sudden changes or short notice plans cause me a lot of stress and anxiety. As a child I’d often be described as an 'old soul', and I have a strong sense of justice and fairness. I've experienced selective mutism, decision paralysis, and I’m sure I’ve been in burnout for the last year, from trying to meet other's expectations.
When I'm learning something new, I enjoy doing extensive research on the topic. I often ask others to clarify their questions before I answer, and I sometimes experience exhausting loops of songs or phrases in my mind, which is most frustrating when trying to sleep, makes you feel a bit delirious.
I exhibit behaviors that could suggest OCD, such as drinking in sets of four sips and needing the volume control to be on an even number. I also have physical habits like rubbing my face or eyes, skin picking, and 'vibrating' those eye muscles that make it sound like thunder in your head.
As a child, I also enjoyed looking at lens flares through my eyelashes and aligning objects from my perspective, eg when looking out of a window I’d line up the roof of a house with the edge of window blind slat. I've experienced dissociation and meltdowns and can easily get overwhelmed.
Social situations tire me out and make me hyper-aware of my body language and facial expressions. I tend to avoid these situations and am uncomfortable with guests, especially unexpected guests, in my home. When I do interact with others, I often fiddle with objects and struggle with eye contact.
I've always felt like an outsider and have tried various ways to fit in, or at least to feel somewhat adjacent to fitting in - I learnt magic tricks and became know as the ‘magic guy’ at school, didn’t really make me any friends, but it did feel good to purposefully bamboozle people for a change.
When I started high school, I studied body language, to try and learn to understand people better, as I finished school and began 6th form, I found myself mimicking peers who I thought were 'cool', and even researching pick-up artist techniques, in an attempt to try and ‘reinvent’ myself. I also realised that I used to kind of ‘absorb’ some of the personality of tv show characters I liked, I remember feeling like I was able to just watch something and then be able to copy it.
Despite these efforts, I still feel like I'm on the outside looking in, unable to fully participate.
Justice and fairness are extremely important to me, and I often feel like I'm the only one in my environment who cares about these values.
At work, I was nicknamed ‘the oracle’ and I’m seen at the person who can answer any questions someone might have. This became a big issue for me and lead to me feeling burnt out, as people would often literally use me instead of Google, for IT issues etc (I’m not in IT), people like to blow smoke and act like they come to me because I’m smart and I know ‘everything’, but for me it feels more like everyone is lazy and also disrespectful of my time since every question I’m asked takes time away from my actual role. It’s exhausting.
Unless I’m starving, I struggle to recognize when I'm hungry.
As a child, I used to take apart toys to understand how they worked. I often feel misunderstood when I try to provide context or explanations for my actions, as others see them as excuses, but I fail to see how having more context in order to form an opinion could be anything but a good thing.
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That’s what I’ve put together so far, but I also need to dig out the notes that I put together for my ADHD research, as a lot of that would be relevant too. It’s frustrating that when you apply for a diagnosis, unless you want to pay a literal fortune, they only look out for what you asked for… wasteful.

73 and alcohol induced dementia. Lives alone. One DUI, One busted arm from passing out drunk.
She won't move downstate and lives 4 hours away. A few weeks ago she fell again, and the neighbors found her and took her to the hospital. Called us to say they are concerned about her and her state. Wife went up and it's bad, but she refused to leave her home. So she got fixed up and went home.
Got a call from the neighbor again, so my wife went up and cleaned up the house. She's basically a hermit and can't/won't care for herself. Home is in disrepair, she neglects her hygiene, and while recovering from her last fall just parked herself on the couch. Soiled herself, barly ate. Wife went up, cleaned up her and the house, and took her to the hospital. She had some busted ribs and they diagnosed her with alcoholim and dementia. Said she had to go to rehab and can't stay at home to take care of herself but she refused all treatment and went home.
Recovering from that, she got ill again. Wr thibk pneumonia. She decided to drive herself to the doctors (after stopping for a handle of vodka) and somehow went into the shoulder of the road and nailed a mail carrier truck that was stopped delivering mail. We don't know if she was drunk, as she couldn't blow from her sore lungs. Cops said she was in a delirious state. Didn't know the president, last holiday, etc etc.
So now she's in the hospital recovering.
I can't take this shit anymore - how do we get PoA and get get in a home? I won't pay a dime until I know she is tapped out.

I'd like to start off by saying that my pregnancy was not planned, but was still very welcomed by both me and my boyfriend. We are very happy and wouldn't have it any other way... but damn is it hard to be happy when I feel like the world is against us.
It's impossible to be comfortable on one income. Two bedroom apartments are insanely expensive (don't even get me started on buying a home). Daycare is insanely expensive, especially if you have more than one kid. Cost of food and formula is through the roof. The cost of maternity care and birth is enough to set you back years. It's somehow considered lucky to have paid parental leave.
I get told all the time that this should be the happiest time of my life. That I'm carrying a miracle and should feel blessed. That this is the best thing I will ever do... and yet I've never felt more unappreciated and undervalued in my entire life. We all struggle during this time. The nausea, vomiting, fatigue, pain, discomfort, insomnia, restless legs, hormones, headaches, the sweating, the itching, the bathroom issues, etc... and that's just pregnancy. Don't forget birth and breast feeding and having to suffer the long term affects this all has on your body. But damn us if we complain or ask for accomodations right? Suddenly it's just what we're supposed to do. It's normal. Its no big deal.
I lost 10% of my body weight in two weeks during my first trimester. I was delirious for weeks from being dehydrated and malnourished because my nausea was so bad I cried when I consumed anything. I fainted multiple times and was too scared to shower alone for months incase something happened. It took having a breakdown in my doctor's office and begging to be taken seriously to finally get a note for leave from work. It's been a month since I've gotten that note and my leave still hasn't been approved because there's a lack of communication between HR, Lincoln financial, and my doctors office. I've sent dozens of emails, talked to several people, left handfuls of voicemails, and yet no word back about my supposedly approved paid leave request.
What has happened that it's so hard to start a family? That's it's so hard to support a family? That it's so hard to keep my job in the process? I'm so stressed out and so tired and just so... done. I feel like a failure and nothing I've done has been in anyone's best interest ir been at all productive. Haven't been working and haven't been able to figure things out with them, haven't been in good enough health to be a good wife, and feel so far behind on baby prepping because we're moving 4 weeks before my due date.
I just don't know how anyone can do this. It feels impossible like there's always something stopping me from making any process.

hey leaves - Been inspired by some of the stories on here and ultimately it lead me to take the plunge into sobriety.35 (M).
Near constant toker for about 16+ years here.It got worse during the pandemic since WFH made it easy to be high at home all day and night.I quit booze a year ago and now I have been weed free for about a week.Had a near delirious episode a few weeks back while smoking and decided it was time. Baseline Anxiety has decreased as I stopped the bud intake.
Gave away / sold my weed and bong - and it honestly hasn't been too bad... until a few days ago.A few questions:

• For the fellas here - I'm 35 M and my libido has been shot for a while - likely due to constant self medication - does anyone have any anecdotal info or resources on this?
• Brain fog and boredom - less interesed in hobbyies and art - I used to love all this stuff - did you come back to art or hobbies after quitting? How long if I can ask?
• Resources for recovery and timelines with scientific backing - My wife seems unconvinced that my withdrawal would have any effect (hint: i'm less anxious and now hitting the "blue" stage likely due to less chemically induced dopamine) - any resources I could share or reference? She supports my quitting don't mistake me - but would like to clarifying that this is not an easy swap without "rebooting"

On top of all this, I'm looking for new work and the financial strain in this household has been tough. It's getting better but at this time, I cannot afford to go back to therapy. (likely a needed step soon)My contribution to those going through this is:

• getting good sleep and going to the gym has been immensely helpful and I encourage those struggling with quitting to chuck the dope and paraphernalia and get some gym time and cardio in. Movement seems to help me out vs sitting in my former weed den wondering what's next.
• Tapering off to lower quality weed - on the surface seemed to help. Was smoking high grade and my most recent bag was outdoor cheapo stuff. Just make sure you actually quit vs driving in the slow lane forever! (again - actually quit - I don't wanna be responsible for hampering your progess - you got this!)

Thank you all, I'm honored to be among you as we all go through this together.

I lost my dad last night. I'm 27. I know that's not super young but I still feel like it's WAY too soon.
He was 77, had congestive heart failure and had to have spinal surgery back in December. It lasted for 14 hours (it wasn't supposed to last nearly that long) and when he came out he was very weak and for many, many weeks delirious. He came back in the last few months and we were even able to see a Broadway show together not even three weeks ago. His lungs and heart began failing again a little after that and last night he was gone.
It's surreal. I feel like when I go home (we're still staying at a hotel near the hospital) it's going to hit 100x as hard that we will never see each other again. We were so, so close and I have no idea how I'll recover from this. Logically, I know I will, but it feels impossible right now.
I am so fortunate that I saw him nearly every single day in these last few weeks and even got to hold him while he died. My mom, my wife, and my half siblings all had a hand on him in his last moments. But I still feel like it wasn't enough, that no time would ever be enough with him. I keep listening to old voicemails on my phone to hear him say he loves me.
He was the most incredible person I will ever know and we shared so many similarities. We were both recovering from major surgeries AND both got blood transfusions because of it in December. I have to have another surgery in September and I feel like I will be so lost without him. All I want is one more conversation or one more hug. I miss him so, so much.