I’m teaming up with @EASportsCollege to give away some College Football 27 codes!
Just repost and reply with #CFB27 for a chance to win. I’ll also be giving away 16 more codes in a couple days outta my own pocket so stay followed 🫡
Shoutout to every late-night session that stopped any of us from bad decisions. Gaming isn't escape - it's protection for hearts that needed it most. You're not alone. ♥️
The Trump administration has rolled out a campaign across departments that draws on images and ideas borrowed from right-wing and white nationalist circles.
@ElizLanders reports.
I was sitting on her couch picking at a loose thread on my sleeve when I finally said it.
“I’m not planning anything. I’m not… that. I’m just starting to scare myself with how empty I feel.”
I half expected her to sit up straighter, grab a clipboard, change her tone like in those bad movies. She did not. She just shifted in her chair like someone adjusting a blanket and said, almost annoyingly calm:
“People usually feel that kind of emptiness when they have been carrying way more than one nervous system is built to carry alone.”
Something in my chest sagged. Not in a dramatic way. More like when you have been holding a grocery bag wrong and someone reminds you you can use your other hand.
Because that is what it feels like, right. Not “I want to disappear.” More like “I want one hour where existing is not an advanced level sport.” You do not want the lights off forever. You want them dimmed enough for your eyes to stop hurting.
You wake up, you do your little checklist. Shower. Clothes. Inbox. Family chat. Feed whoever depends on you. Pay whatever beeps the loudest. Answer the “how are you” with the version of the truth that does not make the room weird. By 14:30 you feel like a phone that has been on 1 percent for three days. People keep opening apps. You keep pretending it is fine. Then you sit on a bus or in a bathroom or on a therapist’s couch and realize you do not remember the last time you felt anything that was not tired or scared or vaguely irritated at nothing.
That is the emptiness. It is not nothingness. It is everything so stacked on top of everything else that no single feeling can reach the surface.
When I told her I was scared, it was not because I had a plan. It was because there were moments brushing my teeth where my brain went quiet in a way that felt wrong. Like it was testing sentences I did not want. I love people. I have plans. I make playlists. I save stupid videos. I still found myself thinking “if this is it forever, I do not know how long I can keep faking it.” That gap between “I know I want to be here” and “I do not know how to be here like this” is where the panic lives.
She did not argue. She did not slap a gratitude list on it. She did not tell me to “focus on the positives.” She just named what no one had named before.
“Overwhelmed is not the same as broken.”
It hit me in a stupid, physical way. My shoulders dropped half a centimeter. My eyes stung, not from a big sob, just from the shock of finally hearing a word that fit. Overwhelmed. Not defective. Not dramatic. Not ungrateful. Just a system running at 130 percent for too long.
I started seeing the inventory.
The text messages I answer like customer support. The secrets I hold that are not mine. The relatives I manage emotionally so they do not explode. The work that never really ends because my phone means my boss lives in my pocket. The news I absorb at 01:17 when I should have been asleep an hour ago. The history I never actually processed, just “moved on” from because life kept demanding the next task.
No wonder my brain started shutting lights off in the hallways. It was self defense, not moral failure.
The scariest part of emptiness is how quiet it looks from the outside. You are not the “crying in public” person anymore. You are the “oh, they seem fine, just busy” person. You still answer “I’m good, just tired.” You still show up. You still meet deadlines. Your life looks like a functioning apartment from the street. No one sees that inside most of the furniture is made of cardboard and held together with tape.
So you start wondering: if I vanished, would anyone have even seen the half of what I was juggling. Or would they just say “wow, they always seemed so strong” and move on. There is a special kind of loneliness in realizing you trained everyone around you to believe you never need help.
🚨BREAKING: Trump claims Cuba “has virtually no autism” because they “don’t have Tylenol.”
Reality: Dictatorships don’t have good health data. Autism exists everywhere - authoritarian regimes just don’t track it. F*CK Donald Trump and his lies.
I wrote a paper about the use of the word "stan" in college. Eminem wasn't even the first artist to use it in a song (even though his use did further popularize it)
Some folks are arguing that the origin of the term "stan", which is 100% derived from the Eminem song of the same name - instead comes as an abbreviation to "stalker fan" lmao
Nasty levels of revisionist history from people who weren't even alive 😭
@JadenHayes_ C+ compared to an A just doesn't make sense imo. They are a lot closer to one another than those grades regardless of how you had them ranked