Chinese seafood buffet near me

I’m debating on going to osu or kent for pre medicine. I am 21 yr old male transfer student most liking going for 4 years tho. Kent offered me 6,500 scholarship per year. Osu offered me nothing. I have a 4.0. Everything is so 50/50. I’m not the most social person but I do enjoy football games and going out once in a while, but I know i’ll be studying a lot. I have a job in a hospital by my house 1hr from kent 2hr from osu. My brother lives in columbus but my girlfriend goes to kent. Kent is smaller class sizes so easier to make good with profs but osu has more opportunities near by. I’m taking out loans regardless. Also planning to live alone in an apartment. I’ve seen both campuses from my gf and brother not just tours I enjoy both of them. Any advice would be appreciated.

Hello folks,
19M 168cm SW 105.5kg CW: 87.6kg GW: 68kg
I feel like I didn’t lose weight! i’m so tired of not seeing progress! this sucks! not one day since jan 8 have I eaten above ~1500 calories and nearly all days I never go above 1200 kcal and yet after all the weight loss I still look the same! and it sucks! i’ve been contemplating going for the long fasts like 2 days or more but idk if that’ll help, i just wanna reach my goal weight! :(
Today I tried a new tshirt with a size I normally wear and it was tight and It’s already a big size! ugh!
(contemplating the ethicality of cheating your spam system considering I am not a spammer and simply an innocent person trying to ask a question, either way wouldn’t your message notifying me that theres a spam filter maybe is like implicitly telling me to cheat it? hmm)

I’ve struggled with anxiety my entire life, but recently I’ve noticed that any time I feel a little bit anxious, I start forgetting things. I’ve been working M,W,F at a clinic near me and i love working there so much but i’ve been feeling like a burden lately, I forget SO MANY things and i feel like I ask too many questions. Some of the time, I know that i’m right, but I would rather check and look dumb than follow through with it and it be wrong and look even more dumb.
I feel like i have second thoughts about everything I do, from the length of a nail trim, the cleaning of something, talking to a client, handling a patient, putting things in the computer, putting things back where they go, doing ear cytology, filling out sheets, etc. Everyone has been so kind and patient with me so far, but they probably think i’m so dumb. It’s like my mind can’t work for itself. I will watch a teach do something 1,000 times and then when I go to do it myself, my mind goes blank and I need to be walked through it 10 more times before I understand, and then when I finally understand, I forget it for my next shift.
I’m a 19f veterinary assistant right now and I’ve only been working less than a month. I’m going into my third year of undergrad and on the path to getting my DVM, but It’s making me wonder if i’ll ever be independent enough to become a veterinarian since I have second thoughts about EVERYTHING that I do and i need very specific instructions to do anything. I feel bad for asking the techs so many questions that I have already asked before.
I also used to work from home doing a very simple job that did not require much brainpower, I think i’m just trying to get back into using my brain and not letting anxiety control my day.
I look up to the techs and doctors so much and i’m so scared of disappointing them or annoying them, does anyone have any advice? Will it get better with time?

I know that literally, it means rivers and lakes, but apparently there's some other meaning to it.
I was talking to my dad and he said something about a new neighbor who moved in near us. He said something like "那个哥们儿很有江湖气息."
I had no idea what that meant so I asked him to explain what 江湖 means and he had a really hard time explaining it to me. He gave me like 4 different explanations ranging from the Marvel Cinematic Universe to "the Life" as in life involved in the mafia or organized crime. Needless to say I still have no idea what it means or what he was talking about. What does 江湖 mean?

Hey guys and gals!
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My daughter is obsessed with Pokemon and it is generating my nostalgia as well, we have a blast opening packs together. I am wondering if anyone knows a good website to find Pokemon card shows in Ohio and near me? I try to google it and I can only find sport card shows.
Any input on where to look or if you know of some in the Ohio area, Near Columbus/Cincinnati area would be preferred.
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I appreciate it in advance of any help on this!!!!

This really happened yesterday. English is not my first language.
First, in school I repeated 10th year, but kept a bit of contact with my former class since we were all together for years, some of us from even kindergarden. Most of us only talked to eachother a bit in a groupchat since some went to college in other regions or countries. I graduated school 3 years ago. In my country by a coincidance, 2 holidays plus the weekend made it so we had a 4 days-weekend.
There was lots of people talking in the groupchat for the first time in years, because apparently we were all in the same region for those 4 days, so they were organizing a party, I hadn't seen most of them in 6 years, so I said hell yeah.
That party was in one of the classmate's house, mostly normal with music and drinks, I was catching up with everyone, and drinking a little, and then, one of my last classmates appeared.
He used to have a very iconic, and easy to remember, last name, think of something like Mclovin, and we all called him Mclovin (specially me since I had troubles remembering names), but, when I, all happy and pumped up called him "HEYYY MCLOVIN'S HERE!!!" everyone else felt silent. I didn't knew what happened, just saw him in shock, then getting unconfortable, then went to talk to his old friend group. I then sobered up, and remembered something a friend who lives near him told me a couple of years ago:
His father was abusive and alcoholic, for years, just a total mess, so when his mom finally divorced him and remarried, he changed his last name from Maclovin to Smith, his mom's last name. All because he didn't wanted to feel related to that man anymore. So, everyone in the class got used to stop calling him Mclovin... except me, because I wasn't in that class anymore wne t he told everyone about that change. For them is was something they all talked in deep, in person, as a group, for me it was more of a "not so fun fact" a friend told me a few years ago. I'm not trying to justify myself, just explaning what happened.
But yeah... that happened. I tried to talk to him, to apologize, he kinda gave a dissmissive answer, and since everyone was giving me almost the silent treatment, I decided to left early for the night and go back home. I just wanted to write this somewhere.
TLDR: went to a party with ex classmates, and called one of them by their old name, not remembering they changed it, ruining his, and everyone's mood.

So I’m 23f, before meeting my boyfriend 29M, I have never dated anyone, I also had quite the unique childhood lol, I have no clue was a healthy relationship looks like. so if I am being completely overdramatic like he says I’m sorry for asking, it just frustrates me but sometimes I get frustrated easy.
We started dating over a year ago, and I feel like he knows nothing about me.
-One thing everyone knows about me is I love iced coffee, & won’t drink hot coffee. Despite me only ordering iced coffee and always having one with me, if he picks up coffee for us without asking he always gets me a hot black coffee.. the first few times I just added ice to it, but then I told him one time I didn’t like it and he somehow still does it.. I’m also not exaggerating when I say everyone knows this, i absolutely love McDonald’s iced coffee lol I always have one
He does the same thing with food, he will always come by with dinner but it seems like he doesn’t even know what I like, we eat at this one restaurant all the time near his house and I order the exact same meal every time yet when he brings takeout from there it’s always something random or even something I really dislike. I hate pasta in any form, which I’ve told him and he still brought it too me.
These are just two examples but on my 23rd birthday last week he wanted to make me breakfast in bed and wouldn’t tell me what, and brought me pancakes. He should know I hate them because when he asks for them in the morning I make myself something different, so I finally told him I felt like he didn’t know I single thing about me. I told him I know everything about him I could literally tell you his favourite anything, and I did. He said I was being over dramatic and I should be grateful because he’s just trying to do nice things for me. Then I asked him to tell me anything he knows about me and he ignored me. But I don’t understand the point of bringing me things I don’t like..
Even for my birthday present he got me all purple jewelry because “it was my favourite colour” it was beautiful but I literally drive a pink car and wear all pink.. that one you don’t even need to memorize.
It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose or something but I just don’t understand what he would get out of it!!
He’s a nice guy, and I understand this isn’t huge but it’s making me crazy. I feel so bad for him when he brings it, it’s just frustrating at the same time because it would be the same amount of effort/price to bring me something I’ll actually enjoy. He gets upset if I’m not super excited but he’s bringing me stuff I’ve told him I don’t like!! When I surprise him with coffee I know what shop he likes and his exact order, and when I cook or pick up food I know literally everything he likes and doesn’t like.

My cat has been depressed for 30 days. She is almost 15 years old and was my families cat. I recently moved out of my parents house and I took her with me as I am her biggest companion and who she takes a liking to the best. Since the move, she has completely stopped eating her routine dry food that she used to gobble up daily. She is plus size so she would eat large volumes of it when living at the old place. She has not been given wet food for years because she likes the dry food so much and it was vet recommended to combat frequent UTIs she would get years ago (hasn’t had one of those in 6 years.) Since she wasn’t touching her bowl of dry food I had to start buying wet food to try entice her. Some flavors she completely ignores, however she has eaten a few licks here and there of a couple of flavors. This cat used to literally scream-meow at everyone in my house when her bowl was empty until it was filled. So it makes me feel incredibly guilty that since the move she barley eats anymore.
I waited a couple of weeks for her to acclimate before I brought her to the vet. Despite clearly not eating anywhere near what she was eating before the move, vet says she is 100% fine based on blood tests and some physical exams and that she is actually in better shape than most cats her age.
I don’t know what to do. I keep trying different flavors of wet food to see if anything sticks, but nothing has. I am at work 5 days a week, so I think her being home alone in a new environment without 3 members of my family she used to be around, is really taking a toll on her mental state. But I have to work and can’t be home with her 24/7. She doesn’t seem in pain, just seems sad and uninspired to do anything and has her spots in the house she likes to sleep. Does anyone have any advice? She doesn’t like toys, she was stimulated by cat nip a few days ago but now seems uninterested in it. Part of me thinks she should move back to my parents to live with them and my brother, since she was so happy there. But then she won’t be with me whom she is attached to more than them. I am at complete loss and feel guilty that she’s not acclimating well. But 30 days is a long time to be barely eating. She also is only having a bowl movement roughly every 5-7 days which is obviously way less frequent than it should be.
PLEASE HELP ME GET MY CAT BACK TO HERSELF. I feel like a terrible pet owner for putting her in this position and need ways to get her feeling happy again.

I spent like $150 and the website said $100, I can’t believe I forgot to think about it in the store I guess I got distracted but they never even mentioned it. Did they run out? Is there a way I can use my receipt and try to get one mailed to me because I don’t live near one and only stopped cause I was passing through a city.

I use a set of used $200 DCI irons I got in the late 1990s. Same free Anser putter from early 1990s. Used Titliest golf balls off Ebay. Bought a $50 driver off Ebay in 2014. So my equipment cost like $300 and has lasted me many years. I always walk and a round at the local muni costs $35 for about 4 hours of fun. About the cost of a movie or Chinese food delivery. Golf is literally my cheapest hobby

I live a split life where I hold down a full-time job, have a social life and family. The other half is my addiction to crack cocaine. I got addicted to coke in my 20s and it just spiraled from there. Two nights ago I was hanging out with a friend who smokes dope and crack. I don't do opiates so I'm always careful to not use their pipe. Well they got mixed up and I hit their pipe in the dark of my car. I walked into the house and overdosed immediately since I have no tolerance. Fortunately there were people in the house who made sure I didn't die. I was told I went pale, grey and clamy. The next thing I know is that I was waking up in the back of another persons car, presumably on the way to the hospital. Thank God I am alive. I feel awful today but that's probably the after affects of the binge, the overdose, and the two hits of narcan.
I can't tell any of my real friends because I'm not ready to share this part about myself with them. Feelings of shame and guilt are heavy. I needed to write this out to process my near brush with death. I don't really know what to say. I'm probably going to my first NA meeting tomorrow. I'm not stranger to the 12 step programs since I have plenty of friends in them. It's just crazy to me that i'm here. Thanks for reading.

I feel like the weight of the world is crushing me right now and I hate having to post this. But like the title says, I no longer want to financially support my mother and it's one of the most painful things I've had to endure.
My mother worked in healthcare for about 40 years. Made pretty decent money as far as I'm concerned. My mother has always been very emotionally unstable (in many ways she's a spitting image of me, which is why I'm all the more worried) and frequently lash out/yell/scream and demand. Our personalities are very similar, and we've gotten into some pretty nasty, unforgivable arguments in the past.
But even though she was making (to my knowledge) fairly good money, she was also battling a gambling addiction of nearly 30+ years. It started when she was young and it only got worse as time went on. I've been financially supporting my mother now off/on for about 10 years. My finances are fine.... as I'm still living at home (I live at my dad's, and he's mostly oblivious to the situation as we've never told him. However, he has always known to some extent known my mother had a gambling problem).
About a year ago, my mother pulled me aside and confessed that she had a serious gambling problem and was in recovery. To some extent, I already knew this... but what I DIDN'T know was that she had spent ALL of her parent's inheritance. All of it, gone. Ever since, she has been scrambling to get her life back on track. Credit cards, maxed out. I helped her with lawyer fees to declare bankruptcy as well. This did not set me back financially (as again, I'm still living at home) but this would have been a monumental living hell if I was.
My mother also has numerous physical ailments and is pushing 70. She works part-time at a hospital and she is still always in need of money. I feel scared, hopeless and afraid. Not to mention, I'm the only child so the burden feels even more crushing.
I want to move out, hell I probably need to move out at this point (I'm in my mid 20's) but I'm terrified of what is going to happen to my mother. I can't keep doing this in 10 years. Right now I'm the least bit interested in starting a family of my own but I know that can change. I make OK money, but eventually I want to move out of this city and find a job elsewhere.
Her rent is absolutely ridiculous and we're trying to find her a cheaper place. Knowing that she has a bankruptcy tag above her name is going to be a laborious process.
My heart aches for my mom.... she's had a very difficult childhood, but I have literally no idea what I can do about any of this. I know there is some obvious parentification going on here but I just can't seem to let go. Only real solution I have is to just let my dad handle it (they're divorced, but communicate sparingly), whenever I actually move away and get on with my life.
AITA for not wanting to financially support my mom anymore?

I’ve just started to look at the market in advance of really hunting next year, and I was hoping for a 550sqft+ 1 bed of around $650k in a pretty wide net of neighborhood options. I’ve only been seeing listings near but over my budget in the $750-800k range, though, and they’re almost all 2 beds with more footage than I need. Are the options for a smaller place really that limited? Am I just looking at a bad time?
I’m looking at anywhere between Culver City and Eagle Rock that’s not swanky but isn’t going to get me in trouble either. Valley would be a last resort if there’s really nothing else.
Any heads up from someone more experienced would be huge!

My 70-year-old not-tech-savvy mother-in-law wants me to assist her in setting up a backup system for her decades of digital photos.
She has nearly 20 years of digital photos on her computer that she's worried about losing, and she wants me to help her set up Dropbox with an external hard drive.
Is this straightforward to do and easy to set up for her? Can someone recommend an external hard drive? Or another easy system?
I'm not familiar with Dropbox but she seems set on it. I use Google for everything, but she has privacy concerns and doesn't want to use Google so I can't really help.
She thinks I'm some kind of wizard and asks me for tech help all the time, but I'm not really and I don't have the time to deal with it anymore.
Wife and the kids and I are visiting her this weekend and if I could get something set up for her then everyone will be happy.....

I am fed up with google, I've gotten rid of EVERYTHING google branded EXCEPT docs and voice (which I need for my business).
Problem is... google docs is perfect to me. It just works the way I want it to and I have written a ton of books and other stuff with it. Is there someone out there who has something nearly identical to google docs that's not google branded?

I had a 5 gallon kit tank sitting around so about 8 months ago I set it up on a dresser near my window, just tossed random plant clippings into it and filled it with water, I pay zero attention to the tank, never tested the water or added food, I never turn the light on, no filter no heater, and the only care it gets is topping the water off every couple months when I notice it's getting kinda low.
Lo and behold today as I was over in that corner of my room I looked into the tank and found a full grown super deep red cherry shrimp.
It's probably not a surprise to people who keep shrimp when they manage to hitch rides between tanks, but I'm just amazed by the survivability of this little guy, the tank is directly next to a window and my insulation kinda sucks, so the water was definitely super cold during the winter months, and yet this dude not only managed to survive but he/she's huge.
With this revelation, I've just added an internal filter into the tank with old media, and some drift wood for him/her to graze on, I'll probably add some shrimp from my main tank in with them in the near future, but I'm a tad concerned about the temp difference, it's a full 10 degrees colder than my other tanks.
Apologies for the rant, but this is probably the most exciting thing shrimp/fish related that's happened to me in months and I had to share.

Hi All,
I'm currently a new CCA a little over 3 months in. I've been given the longest walking route in the office. Its estimates around 15 miles all walking and over 1200+ stops. Majority of my time spent at the post office has been this route (besides 2-3 times.) I've tried my hardest to complete the route on my own (I don't take lunch breaks unless they're bathroom breaks.) I used to beat myself up and get upset because, I assumed every route was this long and required this much walking and stops and I couldn't fathom why I couldn't finish by 5 like everyone else. Until, the older regulars told me I was given the crappiest route because, I'm the newest CCA and the supervisors wants to see how fahard I'm willing to work. After I talked to one of our best CCA at the office who has been here for nearly 2 years, he told me he was on the route for an entire summer and has only completed it once alone. Long story short this Monday our office was swamped with mail and the supervisor sent a PTF to come to help and boy did he have an attitude. I'm trying to not take things so personal but, I can't understand why it feel like a few CCA can't seem to stand helping me when not many seems to have finished this route alone. One final things a lot of the routes at our small rural office involves walking and riding or much shorter relays. So it's not as if they spent their entire shift walking 10+ miles like me then, coming to me and walking another 1-5 miles.
Idk maybe I'm just hyper sensitive bc, I actually enjoy the route and I don't mind the walking but, their demeanors doesn't make me feel well. And I'm becoming tired of being mistreated

Hello,
My name is Brad, and I'm 27 years old from Wisconsin. I'm reaching out here in the hopes that someone can provide me with advice or guidance regarding my current situation. I often feel uncertain about whether I'm on the right path or if I should consider giving up.
I've struggled with maintaining traditional 9-to-5 jobs because I easily get bored and have a short attention span. Unfortunately, I don't have any friends, and my family isn't supportive. It's difficult for me to engage in meaningful conversations about my life because they are pessimistic and don't believe in my ideas or capabilities. However, I do have a best friend who is ten years older than me, and we met a year ago. She believes in me wholeheartedly and supports me both emotionally and financially. Unfortunately, she faces challenges due to a drug problem, which hampers her productivity and occasionally affects her mood, consuming a significant amount of my time and energy.
Two years ago, I had excellent credit and built it up to $35,000. However, instead of investing it in my business idea, I spent a year partying and squandered everything. Now, I am on the verge of bankruptcy and starting from scratch.
I currently hold a CDL B license and am studying to obtain my CDL A CLASS. This would enable me to secure a job that pays well enough to invest in my pressure washing business and start saving for the future.
I struggle with being indecisive, often getting distracted by new ideas or things that capture my interest. This tendency derails me from building my pressure washing business, and I find myself having to redirect my focus.
So far, I have laid the groundwork for my pressure washing business. I have invested over 2,000 hours watching a variety of YouTube videos about starting a business, successful entrepreneurs, the life of a business owner, pressure washing techniques, and related topics. I have also created around 100 documents for my business, including a business plan, logistic records, transaction documents, inventory management sheets, legal contracts, human resource materials, and I even have a dedicated business email and business cards. Additionally, I have acquired pressure washing equipment and chemicals.
Currently, I am working on advertising my business and gaining experience by practicing on my family's homes before I begin working with actual customers. However, I must admit that I feel nervous and lack confidence when it comes to reaching out to strangers and actively promoting my services. I fear the responsibility that comes with running a business and worry about the possibility of failure, potentially losing everything I have worked so hard for.
In terms of my living situation, I reside with my family and don't have any bills to pay since I am in significant debt and will be filing for bankruptcy in the near future. Without a job, I spend most of my day at home and can only afford to purchase the necessary supplies for my business.
I would greatly appreciate any advice or input regarding my situation. Should I consider giving up and pursuing a regular job to avoid the negativity from my family, or should I gather the courage to face my fears head-on and fully commit to starting my own business?
Thank you for taking the time to read about my circumstances.

Preface:
I am a huge Lord of the Rings fan; I re-read the books typically once a year. I also adore the movies, and find all of Tolkien's legendarium absolutely awesome. Truly one of my favorite hobbies so I'd like to offer some critiques and excitement of flavor gems from Tales of Middle Earth. I won't do every card, but I'll comment on some individual cards and how WOTC did on it. I will comment on the cards abilities but only insofar as it impacts the flavor; i.e. what the card is doing not power level, etc.
To be clear: I understand there are sacrifices you need to make for the greater game, and sometimes those come first. For these articles: I am looking at each card in a vacuum, so if I seem harsh it's because I am using a single lens.
Next up: Eomer, Marshall of Rohan!
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https://preview.redd.it/ovf5zxlvgh4b1.png?width=400&format=png&auto=webp&s=0fda3cb72a84c53285ee748a5f48d1a5c4fd84cc
Flavor Preface
Eomer is the Third Marshall of the Riddermark at the time of the story. He is Theoden's most trusted military commander, and a fearsome warrior in his own right. There is not too much else to say about Eomer, except that he got into a feud with Gimli and nearly came to blows on several occasions.
Color
Eomer is brash and bellicose. Red is appropriate.
Abilities
I once again have no problems with this. Eomer fights in Helms Deep in the books (it is Erkenbrand who comes to the rescue), but he also helps lead the charge in the Battle of Pelennor Fields. The specific flavor of this is when Eomer discovers Theoden and his sister Eowyn seemingly dead on the battlefield. After weeping Eomer simply yells: Death, death, death! Death take us all! Eomer then leads the Rohirrim in a charge against the enemy.
The flavor here is perfect. I have only two minor gripes. First: the flavor text. Wizards, you truly have failed me. Death, death, death! Death take us all! This was the perfect flavor text; it's what Eomer says right after the moment they're trying to capture! Ugh missed opportunities.
On Eomer's Skin Color
I have already made my opinion clear on several occasions that I have no issues with Wizards making some characters White in the story. They already made Eowyn Black (and I am fine with it) and Theoden. That being said: if Theoden and Eowyn are Black, how in the world is Eomer White? That makes little sense.
My one big critique of how Wizards added diversity to The Lord of the Rings is that they did not do what the writers of House of the Dragon did; in that they weaved this into their story to add to the story instead of just randomly adding it. In House of the Dragon, for those who do not know, a major story point is that Rhaenyra has an affair against her husband (who is Black) and everyone knows because her children all come out White. This works better than in the books because the tell in the books was their hair color, which is less obvious.
Skin color is genetically inherited in the modern world. If you're going to add it (and I want to emphasize again: I am fine with this) I think it would have made more sense for them to make it follow 'real world' genetic rules.

Have you ever wanted to get off opiates so badly you'd be willing to do anything?
Summer, 2017. Orange County, California
I park my car in another part of the same neighborhood. I don't bother to check my surroundings. I pick a water bottle up off the floor, get my works ready, and prep an extremely strong shot of furanylfentanyl for myself. My heart is racing, I'm shaking, I'm sweating, I feel sick to my stomach. How is it possible that I feel this sick and terrible so soon after my last shot?
I'm in trouble.
I use the seatbelt to crudely constrict blood flow to my arm. I inject the furanylfentanyl and cap the needle. I open my car door and lean my head towards the opening, in case I have to vomit.
The rush hits too quickly. My heart slows. My muscles relax. My stomach does a backflip. I try to cling to what pleasurable sensations I can, but nausea overwhelms me and an encapsulating weakness dulls the entire experience. I start to salivate, a sure sign that I am about to throw up. I start to feel very dizzy.
"NO!" I scream. "Don't overdose! don't overdose!" I yell, slapping myself in the face. The sudden movement of slapping myself causes my nausea to worsen. I let my head hang over the opening in my car door to the asphalt below.
"Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake," I yell, out loud, to keep me engaged. I hear a dog bark and do my best to look up from the asphalt. There is a woman walking her dog away from me. Did she see me? Does it matter?
If she calls the cops, does it matter? I try to keep watching her as she continues to walk away. Does anything matter? Does anyone even see me? Am I just a ghost, stuck on this hellish plane with my only relief being small chunks of fake feelings that I buy for hundreds of dollars and shoot into my veins, until my body finally breaks down and dies on me?
Something snaps within me.
This has to end – NOW.
Later that night.
"Ok, Bryson sent you here, and he always sends good people, so we can just do all the intake stuff tomorrow. Your bed is upstairs. Hey, Logan!" the chunky, tan, toothless house manager turns and yells towards the living room of my new flophouse, at the two 20-somethings playing Call of Duty on a gigantic HDTV.
"What," one of them snaps, quietly and unenthusiastically, not looking away from the TV. All I can see is the Boston Celtics flat-brim hat that he has on backwards.
"Can you show the new guy here to his bed? It's in your room," the house manager says.
"What? Why is he in my room?" Logan asks, irritation plain in his voice.
"Because I said so," the house manager says, walking towards them now, as if he is going to get in front of the TV and block their view of it.
The kid with the Celtics hat gets up suddenly and starts to walk towards me. He strides past me, not even looking at me.
"Thanks," I say to the house manager, before turning away from him to follow the lazily bobbing Celtics hat upstairs.
"See you tomorrow morning! Don't forget to come see me in the morning!" the flophouse manager calls after us. Despite not having me fill out any paperwork or giving me a drug test, I will be able to start living here right away because I have private health insurance. I might as well have swiped my health insurance card at the door of this flophouse hotel.
Logan walks like he can do no wrong and the world owes him something, which makes me hate him instantly. He leads me to the first bedroom at the top of the stairs, which is indistinguishable from any other middle-class suburban single-family home. It is smaller than my childhood bedroom, with two twin beds maybe 5 feet apart, two small nightstands that practically touch each other, and one dresser.
"This is my bed. Don't touch any of my stuff. That dresser is mine," he says, pointing to the indiscriminate wooden dresser against the wall opposite our beds. I feel a flash of anger.
"Nah. There’s only one dresser. We'll split it up tomorrow," I say. He turns towards me and looks me in the eyes. He’s taller than me, with long dark hair and a lean frame. I stare at him, my jaw clenched in rage, daring him to touch me, so I can take my anger out on something besides myself. I don't care if he knows how to fight and whips my ass right now, I'm at the absolute end of my rope with living on this Earth. He scoffs and walks out of the room. I sit on the twin bed that is now ‘mine’. It feels brand new. New beds means that a new flophouse has arrived in Orange County.
I wish I didn't have to precipitate my withdrawal, but this has to end sometime, and there is no time but now. I have four somas, six xanax bars, and half a naltrexone pill - 25mg - in my pocket. I pull the loose pills out of my pocket and look at them.
Six xanax bars is definitely not enough to make me black out. Six xanax bars isn't even enough to fully get rid of the restlessness, let alone cause me to sleep through the night, but at least I have 4 somas. The muscle-relaxing somas will have to do some heavy lifting, but I know they can do it.
Somas absolutely wreck me. I haven’t taken one in a long time, but I know I respond strongly to them. Taking six xanax and four somas would ordinarily be enough to cause me to black out for a full day, but I don’t know if they will even work through 25 milligrams of naltrexone.
Just thinking the word ‘naltrexone’ causes my stomach to drop and my heart to start racing. I am absolutely petrified at the thought of taking this naltrexone.
Well, it’s time to nut the fuck up and do it, Lonnie. You decided to go on your little furanylfentanyl binge, now you have to take this naltrexone. You made your shitty flophouse bed, now you have to lay in it. You’re going to be sick either way by the time the morning comes.
I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry with anxiety. How much do somas contribute to respiratory depression? I can’t remember off the top of my head. I don’t remember what the median lethal dose is, what the mechanism of action is, or even what receptors it interacts with, aside from the same GABA receptors that xanax acts upon. I wonder if there is an increased risk of respiratory depression from combining soma with xanax.
I pull out of my phone, so I can google just how sedating the soma is when combined with xanax, to make sure I am not going to stop breathing during the procedure.
You’re wasting your time, Lonnie. You have to be conscious in the morning and able to talk to the house manager. You’ve overdosed 3 times in the past few weeks. If you can inject enough fentanyl to kill 5 people, you can take 4 somas with 6 xanax. It isn’t going to kill you – and if it does, who cares? Either way, it’ll finally be over.
This has to end. I’d rather die than keep doing this, anyway.
I walk into the bathroom, the pills clenched in my fist like a loaded revolver, and close the door. I turn on the sink and put all 4 somas in my mouth. I stick my head in the sink and part my lips slightly, drinking from the stream as if I had a straw in my mouth. I swallow the pills and then put all 6 xanax in my mouth. I turn the tap off and start to chew.
My mouth fills with the incredibly bitter taste of the xanax. I used to watch people do this and nearly throw up at the mere sight alone. Now, my mouth salivates with excitement as the bitterness overwhelms me.
I hate how much my brain loves the bitter taste of chemicals. I wish my brain hated the bitterness, like normal people. I hate being a drug addict.
I swallow a few times to clear my mouth out and then drink more from the tap. I look at the orange half-pill of naltrexone in my hand. I sigh. This is going to suck.
Hurry up and swallow it, bitch boy. You don’t want to black out and start throwing fruit around before the withdrawal kicks in, like you did at Amelia’s house.
I can’t look away from the orange half-pill.
Just take it and get it over with. Put the naltrexone in your mouth and swallow it.
I know this is going to make me sick within 3 minutes of taking it. I might as well swallow dynamite – in fact, I would prefer to swallow dynamite. The taste of the xanax lingers in my mouth. I have to take the naltrexone. There is no avoiding it.
I put the pill in my mouth and drink from the tap again. I swallow the naltrexone, turn off the sink, and go back to my new flophouse bedroom, my heart pounding with overwhelming anxiety, feeling like I just made the worst decision I have ever made in my life, which is saying something. I turn off the lights, close the door, and get into the bed. I lay down on my side and close my eyes firmly. I am going to sleep, right now.
5 minutes into self-induced ultra-rapid detox.
My stomach is cramping. It hurts so bad that I can’t move my hands away from it. It feels like I swallowed poison. There is an odd sensation of electricity attached to the pain that is coming from the back of my neck. I am curled in the fetal position because my stomach hurts so bad, but everything else hurts too. How did it hit this hard and this fast? It wasn’t supposed to hit this hard or this quickly.
I throw the blanket off of me. It’s so hot, I can’t bear to have that blanket anywhere near me. The heat is so intense, I can feel it radiating off my skin. I am covered in sweat.
Why does my stomach hurt so bad? It has never hurt this bad before. I can barely breathe through the pain.
9 minutes into the procedure.
It’s so cold, my sweat feels like prickly ice water. I reach for the blanket and wrap it around me as tightly as I can. I move my feet, so the blanket is wrapped completely around them. I can feel my toes writhing back and forth, my legs moving uncontrollably. I am shaking uncontrollably, so I shake intentionally. Where is the xanax? Please, kick in. Please. Please.
God, if you’re listening, stop playing with me and kill me or let that xanax through my first-pass metabolism and into my bloodstream. I chewed it. It should be kicking in and making these symptoms milder.
T+ 14 minutes.
I feel an electric zap in my stomach that becomes a cramp. I hold my abdominals and try to massage them to stop the cramp, which is so painful I can’t breathe. I have the sudden need to use the bathroom. I jump out of bed and powerwalk to the bathroom. Luckily everyone is still downstairs playing video games or not home yet. At least this flophouse doesn’t have a curfew.
I sit down on the toilet and try to sit still. I cannot stop my body from moving for even one second. It feels like my insides are on fire. This is discomfort beyond anything I have ever experienced or imagined.
T+ 20 minutes.
It is so hot. I can’t believe how overheated I feel. I must be on the precipice of brain damage. I lay on the bed, curled in the fetal position, drenched in sweat, forcing myself to shake as vigorously as I can so that I can pretend that I am complicit in this. The xanax has to be kicking in any second now. I should be nearly unconscious right now.
A fresh electric cramp hits my stomach, driving the air from my lungs. I get up from the bed, power walking back to the bathroom, doubled over with pain. I sit down on the toilet and feel the urge to scream. I leave my body bent forward because I can’t sit up straight with this cramp. I see the trash can right across from me. My stomach is so fucked up, maybe I just need to throw up.
T+ 1 hour.
I inhale. I exhale. I inhale. I exhale.
I am not asleep, but I am not awake. I can tell that horrible things are happening in my body and brain, but I am too sedated now to be able to maintain full awareness. I am scared that I will be aware of the moment when I stop breathing – that I will suffocate while I am fully conscious, since that is exactly what I deserve.
I am no longer panicking, but my stomach is beyond fucked. I have been getting up every 5 minutes to go to the bathroom, and now my roommate is in here. It is 12 AM. I have 6 hours left to go.
The soma has all but gotten rid of the cramps. I can now lay still. The temperature swings aren’t nearly as bad – it almost seems as if they’re happening to a body that I can feel but is not mine.
You’re going to do it, Lonnie. You’re outsmarting addiction. Before you know it, you’re going to be getting the naltrexone implant, and then you’ll be back to training hard for college basketball.
I get up from the bed. I walk back to the bathroom, now having to walk carefully, my arms outstretched. The combination of the xanax and the somas has me extremely uncoordinated. I walk towards the bathroom, closing one eye to combat the double vision I have now. I slowly reach for the door and open it. I close it behind me, carefully and slowly. I walk to the toilet and sit on it as quickly as I can, due to the growing urgency of the signals from my stomach. I put my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees. One of my elbows slip immediately, and I almost fall off the toilet.
I fix my seat and put my head back in my hands, more carefully this time. Though I feel physical sensations of pain and discomfort, they are being sent through a deeply dizzying diversion. The discomfort is distant. I can’t be bothered to worry about it right now.
Stay awake, Lonnie. You can’t pass out on the toilet. You’ll get caught and kicked out or taken to a hospital. I cradle my head. I’ll get up in a second.
I hear a loud crashing sound and open my eyes. I’m sandwiched between the toilet and the wall. I reach up for the toilet and successfully pull the seat down after several failed attempts, so I can use it to help me up. Slowly and carefully, I get up from the floor. I pull the seat up and sit back down on the toilet.
I stand up from the toilet and start to walk out of the bathroom. Before I even make it to the door, I feel the need to sit back on the toilet.
This is not good. The soma probably relaxed everything too much. I might have to sit on this toilet for the rest of the night, shitting my brains out. I cradle my head in my hands, so I can relax on the toilet.
Don’t relax too much, Lonnie. You might fall asleep on the toilet. Just keep breathing. You’re probably not breathing very much. You should NOT be conscious right now. Just because the naltrexone is painful enough to force you to maintain consciousness doesn’t mean that your body isn’t barely clinging to life.
I inhale. I exhale.
I feel myself slipping off the toilet. Fuck, I need to get up. I need to do something to stay awake. I can take a shower; I just have to get up from the toilet. Give it another second, though.
I can just wait here for one more second.
​
I woke up 3 days later in the ICU as they were pulling the breathing tubes out of me