BlinkerFluid

I care for her well-being. I mean, I spent 15 years with someone, and I feel like I'm following a guidebook on divorce.

My marriage ended in a mutual tone. She obviously didn't love me in the same ways she used to, same for me as I used to for her, but she's still a person, and we still spent 15 years together. Formative parts of our teenage lives were experienced together. It's not even as-if there's a void, it's a gaping hole through to the other side.

I don't know if she's dead. I don't know if she's ok. I don't know anything, and I'm afraid to ask. I cut off all contact, as was pretty much universally suggested and even I had a lot of ideas that I'd never really come away from it entirely unless I literally separated my life from her. It's a divorce. It's what you do, isn't it?

I just want her to know it wasn't so much by choice as it was a commonplace necessity, but... why would she care? I also get the sense that the second my name is seen on any note, it would just the thrown away, and am I even right to send one, and for what long-term purpose?

It's just a waste of time, isn't it? We should just move on, but... can I? 15 years. I'm 35 now. I should be spending my last five decent dating years finding someone new, but I'm stuck on her being ok. I don't even have to be the one to find out, just someone tell me she's ok.

She probably just hates me and never wants to hear from me anyway, and what good would it do? I'd know how she is, I guess, but she'd have another thread into my life and things could end up more complicated overall.

Every time this comes up in my head, I decide against it, but it keeps coming up, almost daily, like a self-induced torture. "Just don't think about it!" Easy talk...

Sorry if I'm not the first to bring this up. It seems like a simple enough solution.

Hello all. Long-time smoker, 35, male. Anything and everything but edibles. Mostly legit. Some D8 in a pinch but nowhere near the majority.

For the last four months, about once every two weeks, I'll wake up, take a shower, walk into my living room, have a sip of water, and then run back into my bathroom, where I will vomit until the bile comes out and writhe on the floor, onto the bed, holding my stomach for 6-12 hours, screaming for God or Satan, whoever shows up first.

I've been in the hospital three times over the last month over it and only on the last visit was I asked if I used marijuana. There is nothing on any CT scan I've done, ultrasound, kidneys, liver, pancreas, appendix.

"Well I've never heard of this gobbledygook and I also have no idea how to search for stuff!"

Apparently, had you the genetic disposition, cannabinoids can bind to your stomach, and the sphincters to and from it, altering the timeframe it takes for your stomach to empty and the lagging or simply disabling entirely of the functions of the bottom of your esophagus until it's over. You'll be screaming in pain for around 8 hours. Buckle up.

Do I believe Cannabis is solely responsible?

The disease is rare and only shows up in people (usually men) who smoke daily for two or more years. I've been smoking daily for ten.

(Obligatory) Psyop?

If it were, I'd expect a little more than a matter-of-fact "quit and you'll be ok". Usually money or some type of group wants your attention from such things. I'm more leaning to this being a legitimate disease, and peers are kind-of agreeing on it. Multiple sources seem to be finding the same conclusions and I haven't met a Doctor yet who hasn't heard of it in some capacity.

I'm open to bribes, though.

I don't blame cannabis. I smoked it. It didn't jump in my mouth and light itself. I don't blame anyone else. I am unlucky, genetically speaking. You may never get it. You may never have a single symptom, or you might. If weed works for you, fantastic. It worked for me for years, until it wanted to kill me one morning, such is the diceroll of living.

Edit: I'll answer everyone after 4:30pm est. At work.