#recover AOL Account

[al-the-remix]

TikTok Chef!Buck AU please please please!

I didn't know I needed this :D

Okay, so I already wrote about this one a bit here and here, but I do actually have a rough draft finished for this fic as well!

Basically, Buck has a Tik Tok account like this dude that Tommy gats totally enthralled with before they meet during the Cruise Ship Incident

Tommy keeps getting notifications from ChefFirehose that he doesn’t know how to turn off, and even if he did, at this point he probably wouldn’t bother. He still watches all of Evan’s videos, albeit a little less guiltily than before–after the harbour station tour Evan had continued his peruse of Tommy’s Instagram account with what Tommy would classify as admirable shamelessness, commenting stuff like nice form :) on a gym shots from three years ago.  It still feels like Tommy’s getting away with something that he shouldn’t be when it’s as easy as opening up TikTok and clicking on Evan’s profile to get to see him half-naked and making provocative hand gestures with a cantaloupe. There’s actual porn he could be watching. Hell, he could re-download Grindr and get his rocks off in under an hour instead of drooling over the way Evan’s biceps flex and twitch as he rolls out pastry dough. It takes him back to his days of furtively jerking it to the gay porn mags hidden beneath ceiling tiles in the barracks and wedged between loose pieces of siding in the latrines during deployment, or cruising for hookups in Military M4M AOL chat rooms and Craigslist listings.  He slinks off to the bathroom to take a cold shower when he realizes he’s worked himself half-hard over some bread fondling. He can’t help it, it’s like Evan’s got an iron grip on his brainstem and won’t let go.  /// Tommy’s working in the garden in his backyard when his phone vibrates in the little spot of shade he’d left it in. Tommy eyes it sidelong. It feels like he’s quitting nicotine all over again and someone just lit up in front of him.  He wipes his slick palms on his shorts before reaching for his phone. ChefFirehose has posted again and Tommy clicks on it without thinking twice.  The new video is different from the others. For one, Evan has all his clothes on. He’s dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, both looser than the ones he often wears for his videos that look as if they could be spray painted on.  There’s daylight softening the edges of his face and lighting his kitchen in a buttery glow when he smiles.  "I've got a special video today for you guys. We’re baking a cake for charity–and we have a guest!" The toddler he plops on the counter beside him is one Tommy recognizes. Howie’s kid, Buck’s niece. “This is Sous-chef Jee and she’s going to be helping us out today.” That's when Tommy knows he's really fucked. And not in the fun, kinky way, but in the devastatingly I'm never going to recover from these feelings kind of way.  He contemplates the tomato patch, what’s the worst that could happen if he shoots his shot? Evan seems like the kind of guy that would be flattered rather than offended if Tommy was a little wide of his mark. Hey, why don’t you invite Evan along to Trivia night? He sets his phone to the side as he waits for Eddie to reply. They still needed a third person, he thought about asking Lucy, but with the way Evan had been probing him with questions during the tour Tommy had a feeling this was something he might enjoy. It’s not like there was any harm in asking. Buck? I was going to ask him to be my babysitter :( Tommy considers just leaving it there, but he can't ignore the tugging feeling in his stomach telling him to push just a little bit harder. Do you have anyone else you can ask to look after Chris? Maybe he should have just asked Evan himself, but if Tommy was wrong and Buck wasn’t actually interested, he’d probably feel more comfortable turning Eddie down than the guy he didn’t know all that well.  Yeah, it just might involve a lot of groveling. I’ll get back to you. Tommy pockets his phone and gets back to work. It's out of his hands now.

[jimmythecannon]

Riddle Me This: Who Am I?

Answer: Alright, so, a bit about me since I haven't really used this account much.

(tl:dr - chronically ill gamer nerd with a cat)

I'm a fucking nerd-ass nerd. I love comics and videos games and reading (fantasy, sci-fi, and horror primarily). My single most favorite franchise is almost certainly Star Wars.

I love TTRPGs but never get to play them these days. I played AOL chat room RPGs for years and still do one on one roleplay.

I used to stream but it's a little depressing when you have no audience showing up.

I cosplay, frequently as the Riddler or something steampunk (or Agent Coulson!). I used to work as a pirate part-time with a crew at local Ren fests and similar things.

One of my fondest cosplay memories is meeting Kevin Conroy (RIP, forever the voice of Batman when I read comics), Loren Lester, Tara Strong, and Robin Lord-Taylor at a con in my Riddler costume, telling them a riddle, and stumping all four of them. Here's the result.

I have been chronically ill since I was 12. I have Crohn's disease, migraines, fibromyalgia, arthritis in my spine (apparently!), sleep apnea, high blood pressure, depression... I feel like I'm forgetting something. Which is unsurprising with my memory. Speaking of, I suspect ADHD or possibly even being somewhere on the autism spectrum, but haven't been tested for either yet.

I am fiercely on the left of the political spectrum. I believe the whole point of society is for us to take care of each other. Otherwise we may as well be living alone in the wilderness. People deserve health, safety, freedom, and comfort.

I'm a recovering... maybe not addict exactly, but substance-dependent? I was on a lot of pain meds for 15 years due to my health, including the majority of my teenage years, and to this day I struggle with taking too many pills.

I have a cat named Imoen (named after a character in the old Baldur's Gate games). She is my love and my life.

I'm super chatty about my interests, and I am a completely open book. I gave up shame years ago when I was a teenager and kids kept making fun of me due to my illness.

Kids can be dicks.

My mind permanently resides in the gutter, so MDNI - this is not the place for kids, there will be NSFW text if nothing else.

There will be horny here. I like what I like. I have a monster fucker permit and I am not afraid to use it (except for that good scarousal). Give me succubi, vampires, sorceresses, mind control, all of those fun fantasies.

Jimmy is not my real name but it's good enough for the internet.

I... can't think of anything else to add here. Like I said, I'm an open book, ask me anything.

I guess I'll wrap this up with a picture of Imoen when she was a kitty.

EDIT: Oh and this is a 420 friendly blog. Medical marijuana gets me through the day, I am incapacitated with pain otherwise.

[abronzeagegod]

More Eldritch Tech Support stories

"My Great Destroyer, Consumer of Lands, Harbinger of the Deep Seas," you say trying to keep the exasperation from your voice, "you need to be connected to the internet to see your email."

"{}@&_@&%(#(&@__!*_"

"Yes. Can you move the mouse to the lower right side of the screen? There should be some little bars that will tell you if you are connected to the wi-fi."

"&%)!^*^$%^!_%_$}{|"

"No my Great and Terrible the wi-fi is not a rival god from the desert lands, it's just the technology that let's you see your email."

"!*&){}|@*#"

"Good, that means you are connected to the internet. Now if you can open your browser, Mozilla Firefox, Google Chrome, or even Microsoft Edge."

"!@^&)(&@!&&&@}|"

You mute yourself so you can swear. "Yes, you can use Internet Explorer to access your AOL email account. If I may offer a suggestion?"

"$%^&*@"

"It will be easier in the long run, I promise. But Microsoft stopped supporting Internet Explorer a long time ago, and AOL is barely a company anymore. If you will let me walk you through some steps we can get you a modern web browser and a brand new email-"

"&^$}"

"Yes, with all of your old email."

----

Five hours of your life later, you've got the deep sea eldritch god set up with Firefox and a new email with forwarding from it's old email. Just when you start to think that this job isn't remotely worth it, a small crab-like creature crawls across your desk. (you can't in good conscious call it a crab because it somehow has both too many eyes, legs, and pincers, and not enough of the same. yet your brain interprets the being as "crab")

It's about the size of a coffee mug and it holds something up for you, shaking one of it's many claws at you.

You take the small thing, and crab scuttles away to where ever it came from.

The small thing in your palm seems to be a tiny treasure chest, the kind of thing that you'd put in a goldfish bowl. It feels wet and the kind of slimy something gets from being covered in seaweed.

You put it down on your desk just in time for it to rapidly expand, cracking a support on your desk and covering you in sea water.

Before you can get mad about it the chest opens revealing a small horde of gold, jewels, and a bottle of what you have to assume is pirate rum.

"Oh! Cool!" one of your coworkers say as they pop their head up over the cubicle wall. "I wish I got pirate booty once in a while."

"Why, what did Thyrien, Emissary of the Sun, give you for helping them recover their steam library?" you ask.

"A sense of peace and calm about my life and place in the world."

"Oh sounds nice."

"It is. They also gave me this ceremonial headdress." You coworker disappears for a moment and puts on a giant headdress that appears to be made from gold and platinum and has several truly giant diamonds all over it.

"Wow," you say.

"Yeah, I'm thinking I should wear this to the next company mixer."

[a very nice anon asked for more and then sent pictures of cute animal fluff balls so who am I to deny them]

You work as tech support for ancient supernatural beings who are trying to adapt to the modern world. It’s a frustrating - and at times dangerous - job, but at least your clients pay well.

[ryskaza]

It’s been seven years, SEVEN YEARS since I’ve last logged unto my Tumblr account! After spending an hour on the phone today, on hold and speaking with someone from AOL Customer Support, determined to recover my email account linked to my Tumblr page—by the Grace of God, here I am!!

Tumblr has always been my safe haven for creative expression, freedom, and connection with like-minded individuals. Rightfully so, as the human mind often does this, comparing myself to others loomed over me, in addition to life was just “life-ing”, (as the kids would say), and I sort of went off the deep end into a dark pit, (spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally), where only the Hand of God was able to pull me out—and I was willing to be yanked from the shadowy realms of the dark and wicked place I was in.

Being blessed with the opportunity to log back onto my Tumblr account and go through all my old posts—going down memory lane, admiring and appreciating my creative stance, both as a writer and visual artist, and not to mention the muse as well, is beyond gratifying and inspiring. I ultimately write this post, as a promise to myself and the hearts of those God desires to bless with what it is He’s doing through me—I promise to share the arts (i.e., photography, poetry, short stories, and inspiring & thought-provoking words), and most importantly, prayers—for the hearts-and-minds-and-souls of those who yearn for more.

Blessed be!

Love,

M

7th November 2024

[itsupportanytime]

How to recover your AOL deleted account?

Can you recover deleted AOL emails?” This question may be occurring in your mind in case you deleted the emails 7 days ago. The Trash folder of AOL contains the emails which were deleted by you within a period of 7 days. By accessing this folder, you will be able to restore them without any hassle.

[myfriendskickass]

YEAH so here is how it went down:

for reference the problem i had was that google was just...not SENDING the TFA to my device. i managed to get it to work by picking another device, which thank god they let me, because when i tried earlier it would only accept the landline phone (which will be discontinued once my parents die)

and this account would not LET me change the phone number to my cell phone. somehow, on a fluke, i hit the sms button and it went to my cell phone instead of the landline

and no, when i was forced to set up 2FA against my will to keep this email account, there was no option to get a master password/key for 2FA. otherwise i would have

and there was no option to enter such a thing trying to recover the account either. my choices were: call landline phone, unavailable because of Too Many Attempts (which was me hitting the resend button because google just would not call my landline, despite the fact that they have before), sms that lists the landline number, which is why i skipped over it as an option before, not realizing it would call my cell phone that google refuses to let me have as a primary TFA number for this account.

(PROBABLY because it's connected to my cell phone personal google account as a primary number which btw. i can never make another google account again now because google will not let you reuse phone numbers for multiple accounts. learned this when i tried to set up multiple gmail accounts for all 3 of my tumblr blogs because TUMBLR SUPPORT does not like the gmail trick and will not help you with support tickets if your account uses the gmail trick so when i need more than 15gb of google drive storage for personal use idk what i'm gonna do because i can't afford to pay google a sub fee for it. for tumblr i had to resort to reusing very old aol email accounts now)

does protondrive let you like...link files to people and stuff? because i would gladly switch to them for personal storage if i could haha

i still stand by the fact that TFA is bad security and password managers are better

[fortuneserveservice]

How to resolve AOL account recovery issues?

Would you like to resolve the login issues with your email account on AOL? Competently, the users frequently face such kinds of issues due to forgotten passwords, account hack issues, and many other reasons. However, you can simply recover your AOL account using basic account verification information such as email addresses or phone numbers. If you don’t remember any one of them, then don’t worry as the help team has mentioned the steps below.

Guidelines to AOL account password recovery

Using AOL account for all your managing emails and and can’t able to login as you lost username or password and wants to recover your AOL account recovery so follow here

First of all, you have to go to the official sign-in page of AOL and then provide the username or email id associated with your account.

Next, tap the Sign-in button and after that, choose the “I forgot my password” link to initiate with your AOL account password recovery process.

After this, you are asked to write the username of your AOL account into the needed field and then click the Next option.

Now, enter the phone number that is linked with your AOL account or the one that you provided while creating your account. Then, tap the Next option for the AOL account password recovery process.

Once you have given the phone number, then AOL will forward the verification code on your phone number. In addition, you will require to click on “Yes, text me a verification code” to get the code.

Now, mention the code in the given field on the account recovery page and receive your account ownership verified by the tapping the Verify option.

From now, you will be altered to the password creation page where you can type the new password for your account as per your choice and then retype it as well.

In the end, click the Save tab to confirm the password changes and you can use it for accessing your AOL account.

After following the above mentioned steps, the user can simply resolve the AOL account issue in a secure manner.  Moreover, you can also contact the technical support specialist to receive any help regarding your AOL account recovery. They will definitely provide you the best endorsement with valid solutions and information.

[supertechsolution-blog]

[thehelpus]

How do I recover my AOL account?

AOL email account is largely used by standard and professional users across the world. It accepts appropriate email address and password to access, but sometimes users are not able to access due to wrong credentials. If you are a user of an AOL account and your account has been compromised, you can start the recovery process and get your free webmail account back without wasting more time.

It happens with the regular user who try to access hacked AOL email account by someone else. If you want to recover your hacked email account and ask How To Recover Hacked AOL Account, go through the basic instructions provided by the expert team.

· At first, launch an internet browser, visit the AOL account sign-in tab, and try to access your account.

· If you failed to access it, click on forgot password button and enter the mobile phone number or alternate email address.

· You will receive a code number to enter it into the required fields and get a password recovery link that allows entering the new password.

· Enter the new password into both new and confirm password fields and log in to your account eventually.

If you want further assistance related to the AOL email account, feel free to contact our customer service team to assist you quickly.

[techfreek]

The question how do I recover my AOL email account asked by any passenger is answered in minimum time when needed with a guide and assistance information available anytime easily. 

[freshlovershark]

How To Recover AOL Email Account Password

Password incorrect ”error Sometimes you'll see a "Password incorrect" error when you sign in to Google with a third-party app, like Apple’s Mail app, Mozilla Thunderbird, or Microsoft Outlook. If you've entered your password correctly but you're still getting the error, you might need to update the app or use a more secure app.

Update your app or operating system If the app or the operating system on your device is out-of-date, you might not be able to connect it to your Google Account. Try updating the app or your device's operating system.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with tatooedlaura (Laura Sprys)

Laura has 28 fics at Gossamer, but the big treasure trove of her stories is at AO3, where she has 193 fics. Thank goodness for the richness of the X-Files and for talented, creative people like Laura who can find so many interesting ways to tell tales in the show’s universe. Big thanks to Laura for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Maybe reading mine but reading older fic in general is something I still do and something I still find entertaining. I do wish i could get into my old fics and post a warning that some of those were written before the author: ever had a drink, ever had sex, ever had a boyfriend, ever lived on her own, ever had a real job, or ever experienced much of anything in the real world.

Then again, fanfic is a perfect time capsule for the age and it’s always fun to see where the originals started and how they’ve grown.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Back in the day and up and through today, it has always been a fun experience. From it, I’ve learned to love writing. I’ve learned that fans are crazy, weird, wonderful, generous, talented, committed, passionate, and imaginative. In a fandom, you can think whatever you wish and write about anything you like and because I’ve been around so long, I’ve gotten to watch the storylines shift and the relationships change ...

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Originally, I never had much interaction with people other than ones who sent emails commenting on my fanfic … the internet at my parents house was dial-up and I had to access through the AOL free disks that arrived in the mail so, for the most part, I didn’t have the bandwidth or the connection speed to do more than upload stories and download episode guides.

Good lord, I remember submitting a story and having to wait upwards of two days to two weeks before the new batch of stories was posted ... then ephemeral came around and you could actually have your story up in under a day ... all ya'll who started on tumblr and ao3, you have it great, let me tell you :)

One thing that stands out in my mind still (and I’m still friends with her on Facebook) was a woman from western Canada who I stumbled across somewhere while looking for the blooper reels. She offered to send me her copies on VHS for my collection. I don’t think she asked for payment and one day, a package arrived from a lovely woman near Lethbridge, bloopers playable, tapes labeled in clear printing. I still appreciate that 20 some odd years later :)

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Fandoms are crazy places. Tread lightly at first but enjoy what you want, ignore what you don’t, rewrite what you hate, and write what you love. Don’t be an asshole when you don’t agree with someone … when you do, tell them …

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I was on board from the first episode. It was a show about two people who you felt were destined to be together but weren’t, and wouldn’t be for years. It was a cop show about aliens and a monster show with cops. I was in the right place at the right time in the right frame of mind and there was just something that clicked and I never looked back. Friends were not allowed to call me on Friday night and once it switched to Sunday, I made sure that my parents got us on early evening bowling league so we’d be home in time to watch. Even my boyfriend (eventual husband) knew to shut the hell up from 9-10pm, even if he was sitting next to me on the couch (with my parents in their chairs watching as well)

Also, my 56-year-old dad had a crush on Scully from the start so that was entertaining as hell as well

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I have been writing stories in my head for literally as long as I can remember. Watching some episode, I honestly don’t remember which one, I suddenly had an idea for a story about Mulder and Scully. I had never written a story with pre-existing characters before and it was totally foreign to me. How do you write a character with a current storyline. It was weird, it was difficult, it was some of the most fun I’d had writing up to that point.

Suddenly, I didn’t have to explain or describe the characters, think of jobs and mundane things … they already had those … and it was great.

Honest-to-God, my first fic was written, in pencil, on a yellow legal pad by flashlight while lying with my head at the foot of my bed so I could see my parents coming down the hall if they happened to wake up at midnight to go to the bathroom. Later fics were written by the light of an 10” TV/VCR combo with me still lying with my head at the foot of the bed. I still have those old legal pads somewhere and I remember having to type them in secret, having to wait until the house was empty for 20 minutes to an hour at a time. Uploading them was always unnerving because of the slow dial-up and the fact that I didn’t have my own email address, but had to use my dad’s. I’d have to make sure to check it whenever I could, intercept the feedback I’d get off gossamer.

I was such a damn rebel.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Well, I now know how to interact with people given tumblr and AO3 but it hasn’t changed much. I contribute a little more now that I understand posting on social media but mostly, I still just write like a fiend and post, read voraciously and give kudos and likes often, comment some and reblog.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I dabbled and have a favorite ‘Fringe’ fic … I tried to read a Harry Potter fic once … I type ‘West Wing’ occasionally in ao3 and tumblr ...

And nothing, absolutely nothing, has ever caught me like the X-Files did in regards to the fandom experience.

I have shows I watch and re-watch and re-watch but no two characters have ever had me writing and thinking and planning like Mulder and Scully. No other combo has ever made me write upwards of 300,000 or more total and still have plenty of stories to tell.

I’m okay with this.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Aside from Mulder and Scully and the gentlemen three of Frohike, Langley, and Byers … I love all Scully’s nieces and nephews in my ‘Life’ series … I also love Corduroy (picture books), Harold (purple crayon fame), Neville Longbottom, the characters from my own novels, Katniss (book not movie), Anne Shirley, Elnora (from the Limberlost), Will Stanton/Merriman/Barney/Jane from ‘Dark is Rising’ and 10,459 others …

I’m a children’s librarian so most of my favorite books are those written for the younger and YA crowd. I like my job :)

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I watch this show all the damn time. I will think about Mulder and Scully when I have nothing else to think about, normally writing and editing whatever story I may have in the hopper at the time about them.

My husband laughs when I have the show on. He knows all the episodes with me and it’s one of my comfort shows that I don’t have to pay attention to when it’s on. During it, I have edited books, decorated cookies, been sick, been recovering, simply wasted a perfectly good day because I could.

My 17-year-old daughter keeps it on while she does homework and works out.

It’s a staple at our house and no one is allowed to make fun of it, even though we all know that parts are completely ‘make fun-able’

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I read fic all the time … I have worked my way through AO3 starting from the beginning and if it was more easily readable on a phone, I’d work my way, once again, through gossamer.

Restated from above: I dabbled and have a favorite ‘Fringe’ fic … I tried to read a Harry Potter fic once … I type ‘West Wing’ occasionally in ao3 and tumblr ...

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I have all kinds of favorites on tumblr but right now, I honestly don’t remember most of the names … I pretty much read everything that comes through my dashboard and every few days, i read through the newest posts on AO3 … I love you all!!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Of X-Files fics, I love my newer stuff … I read “Life” and its sequels every few months … ‘Your Place or Mine’ is another one I will read … actually, I’ll just say it .... I read all my own fic over and over again …

With fic, you get to write the characters as you want to see them and write situations that you want to see … I write for myself most of all and I love to read what I wrote :)

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I write them all the damn time. I have tons of snippets and half-finished that I occasionally glean things from but while sometimes, old stuff morphs into new, sometimes, it just needs to gather that dust and live a quiet little forgotten life in some backhand folder on my dropbox account ...

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

First question is answered above.

As for other creative work, I have published two YA novels, have the third in that series in editing … I have five other novels in the hopper in various stages of ‘good lord this needs an edit or twelve’ …

I am writing things constantly in my head or on my laptop … most is crap … stome sticks … some turns into fic and some turns into books …

But the point is, I am writing, in some form, at all time :)

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Some two sentence conversation will spark an idea … the line of a song will inspire an idea … a word will start a sentence which will turn into a paragraph which will tumble straight into a story … and sometimes, stuff just pops in my head for no damn reason at all ...

What's the story behind your pen name?

On gossamer, I am L. Sprys because that was my name at the time :)

On tumblr and AO3, I’m tatooedlaura because my name is Laura and I have, now, six tattoos (yes, I spelled it wrong in my handle but that’s life) … when I decided on the name, I think I only had two

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

They do now … it took me years to crack and tell them … my husband has never read them, nor have any of the people I have told (as far as I know)

Now, I don’t really care who knows … I’ll tell them I write smutty X-Files fanfiction and family-friendly X-Files fanfiction …

I am too old at this point to be embarrassed by what I like to do. If they laugh at me, I tell them they only get to laugh when they’ve published a book and I pull up my books on Amazon … I’ve only had to do that once and it shut them right the hell up …

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Gossamer: L. Sprys

Tumblr and AO3: tatooedlaura

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I love you! I see you! I appreciate you! I hope you enjoy! Don’t judge me for my grammar issues! I will never be able to spell the word ‘excersize’!

(Posted by Lilydale on April 27, 2021)

[mearcatsreturns]

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“croatdoctor65@aol.com”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“nursefirecracker@yahoo.com”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

[your-fav-owos]

Could you tell us what the plot of the ARG was going to be now that owo boy is deactivated?

aww owo pwetenses wiww be dwopped fow this....

Basically we didn’t intend for it to get this far. It started when uwu and I were living in an on-campus apartment together with our rooms sharing a wall. One night, while messing around I discovered that if I pressed a plastic cup against our wall and screamed, it would travel and he would hear it relatively clearly. He immediately burst in my room demanding to know what the f*ck I had done. I showed him how I had done it, and we kept screaming back and forth to each other through the wall. This then turned into us memeing on snapchat with it. After a decent reception there, we decided to put it on tumblr. Neither of our main accounts had enough of a following or connection to each other to let it get to success, so we selected our your-fav blogs to be the platform. 

I think part of the reason we did it isto reignite any excitement for the blogs. Follows had plateaued and we were both getting burnt out, so switching things up had the potential to get us back into it, and excited to make flags again. We took the series of videos on snapchat, set them up to post once an hour or so, and watched the response. Once we got a decent reception, we continued making videos and expanding the little story. Our magnum opus was the final video, where uwu says he hears something in his room. He hears a strange voice and some banging, which was me, under his bed, letting out mewled “owo”s and “uwu”s, raking my nails through the carpet, and slamming my hands on the floor to simulate steps. The video ends with him hearing something moving towards him and him walking to the end of the bed, where a hand darts out from underneath and grabs him by the leg. Somehow the video had run out at exactly the right moment for us to get that shot, along with a very strangled “owo” and give it some semblance of a cut and of him being “taken.” 

From there we blacked out our blogs’ themes and changed everything into a cipher. We thought originally that we would leave it there for a day or two, give y’all some riddles, and once they were solved we would return. It got a lot more attention than we expected. Some followers left, of course, but so many more followed and tried to solve it. We got swept up in excitement and the pressure, and we sat down and attempted to come up with a riddle for you to solve. 

We were really flying by the seats of our pants, often coming up with clues as they were written. If any of you thought we knew what was happening, you are sorely mistaken. We often took the discussions in the notes as inspiration and went with that and made a story as we went. I didn’t even know what an ARG was until uwu told me. From then on it had a name. 

We had to come up with a villain. Obviously something had taken us, turned us into husks, and was keeping us there. After a somewhat intense googling session, uwu and I happened upon a list of semi obscure mythological creatures who stole people. It came down between our winner, The Sluagh, and a Japanese snake woman. We chose the Sluagh, a Celctic creature that stole the souls of the sick, or of any who crossed their paths. They were often accompanied by ravens and the souls they took could not be returned, but could be exchanged. 

From there the story took place, we would be taken by the Sluagh, and through some sacrifice, we could be redeemed. Of course, we couldn’t figure out what the sacrifice would be, and we didn’t actually think that far ahead. We had a villain and a start up and that was pretty much it. There was no endgame. We had no goal. At some point we would be recovered…. we just had to figure out how. 

There was talk of using map locations, as well as having something bartered up, or a second “villain” to defeat. It never came to be. We started the ARG a few days before the start of our junior year, with both of us having 8 am classes on alternating days, and we found ourselves with little time to do the game. In an attempt to finish it up, uwu and I decided that one of the blogs would get deactivated. He deactivated his, and regretted it. I’m not sure if he’ll start it up again or not. Unfortunately, we just got caught up in life and our poorly made ARG died. In a question on the your-favs-are-dead blog, I responded “your faves are literally dead lol” and we laughed. We just couldn’t find the energy to start it up again. 

We appreciated all the support you guys gave us, and we appreciated all of your excitement and questions even more. I’m really happy that you stayed here with me, despite my complete inactivity for a while. Maybe someday, with preparation, we’ll make an actual ARG with an actual story. Until then, I’ll keep o-ing my wo’s and existing as a pastel-colored entity of chaos. 

Aohur fvb hss mvy zahfpun dpao tl, aol vdv npys. P svcl hss vm fvb zv tbjo! 

Love, 

Svcl, 

Teh owo giwl

Alo vdv npds

[amandaray-nature-vs-nurture]

Take a Mosey on Down the Diagnosis Trail

Was I depressed? How depressed? Was it “clinical” or “seasonal” or “major”? From what I remember, at first I was clinically depressed. Sprinkle some Zoloft on it.

I didn’t like taking the Zoloft and whatever else I was prescribed; didn’t like the notion of having to take pills to be “normal”. As I know now, that is not an uncommon sentiment. I am pretty sure I was diagnosed within those same few years as having some anxiety disorder, but it was not an “official” diagnosis at first. I remember going back and forth with trying to accept this diagnosis and take my medication when I was supposed to. I had access to the internet back then, but it wasn’t like it is now. Not for most of us, anyway. We didn’t think of searching for things online and definitely couldn’t just type a vague idea in the web address bar and get anything other than an error message. Back then, free AOL CD’s were everywhere by the thousands and I began collecting them by the pounds in my bag and would just hide them in random places all over any house or place of business I found myself at.

Within the same year of being released after my first committal, my sister got arrested after snitching on her own damn self and my mom and I moved to a one road, one grocery store, no red-light town. We lived in an itty-bitty house, my window looking out onto a massive lot for semi-trucks to back up and turn around in (at least, that’s all they ever did right there) at the cotton factory. I could jump out of my window and be in said lot before I even completed taking a single step. There were adventures to be had there many intoxicated nights (one more serious than the rest), of the infinite types of adventures that would have resulted in death in most other instances. I’m lucky to be alive. “Lucky” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I hear stories about young women or men just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or making risky decisions, and not making it out alive -- and I feel like absolute shit knowing that I dodged so many bullets and they did not.

So, as I was saying, my mom and I lived in this house -- just us -- and things steadily devolved. Meaning: there was absolutely zero psychiatric care during that time. Loads and loads of self-medication, and lots of Live LiveJournal-ing (I have tried to recover the account, to no avail). Our house was the house for getting fucked up. It makes my heart palpitate and my guts twist to write this, so I am lucky (there’s that word again) that this is not a story detailing many of the happenings of that wretched place, or any of the wretched places that came after. This house is where my addict tendencies became known to me in a way, and where I developed an eating disorder.

I was never diagnosed with an eating disorder, but my best friend at the time Meghan and I would see who could go the longest without eating while taking fists full of diet pills (I always gravitated toward Metabolife) that we’d stolen up the street. We lived for the Pro-Ana sites/blogs that were around back then and used their tips and tricks and thin-spiration images daily. We ended up purging together after eating anything. We’d drink hot water and punch each other in the gut after jumping around for a while. We were competitive regarding things like who could get the next bone to be more pronounced, and how much we were able to purge vs how much we ate/drank, clothing size, weight, measurements, our side-effect symptoms of whatever we were taking or doing or just the whole mess in general, who bruised easier, who cut the most, the deepest -- who cut the most fucked up saying into which area of skin and using what -- and even our stools (speaks incredible volumes about your diet).

Meghan and I were extremely codependent. I spent those years with her cycling through an infinite amount of possible diagnoses, but I was never helped in any way. I remember a few episodes of psychosis or mania or whatever it was that are mixed with significant chunks of amnesia in my memory. When I think back on the few close friendships I had as an undiagnosed and untreated (or wrongly diagnosed and wrongly treated) person, I imagine that to the people who found themselves stuck in my orbit -- the people who found themselves hypnotized by my incredible vulnerability mixed with utter recklessness and abandon… it must have been awful for them. Especially when they eventually snapped out of their trance and saw what was happening to them because of my disastrous and dangerous ways. My willingness to go as low as one could imagine, at the blink of an eye. I annihilated souls one at a time -- but, for the very clear record, they were always willing participants. I never forced anyone’s hand. Maybe I obliterated the very essence of people, but by that point, they all chose their fates to be intertwined with my own.

In that itty-bitty house next to the cotton factory, my mom ended up abandoning me with a guy I had been dating for a couple of weeks, at most, and his mother ended up taking me in. I only have a few solid memories of that traumatic experience, as well as for the years that ensued at Robert’s house. I lived there, hurting myself in secret and having panic attacks and floating through the world only kind of remembering getting from one year to the next. There was more self-medicating and spiraling. Some cock fights. What I am saying is, there were a whole lot of years that I went untreated.

The next diagnosis that I remember is a Bipolar Disorder diagnosis. I have no idea if I was allegedly Bipolar I or II, but there were other diagnoses such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety, Panic Disorder, and PTSD. Everyone uses OCD so loosely, “Omg, I know; I’m (or someone else they know is) so OCD about…” That, or they think that everything I do is going to be immaculate and organized;  perfect. They don’t talk about the intrusive thoughts or the weird obsessions that no one can know about or the compulsive rituals we do that often have nothing to do with anything but if they don’t get done, something awful will happen and it will be all our fault. I remember when I was young I had the literal Fear of God in me. I was obsessed with death and Heaven and Hell. Thought about it all the time. I was told that God heard our thoughts and that he could always see us. Every night when I would lay down to go to bed, I forced myself to think of every single possible infraction I made that day and to beg God’s forgiveness for it while clutching my Precious Moments Bible. I lost a lot of sleep due to this and so it became increasingly more difficult to stay awake each night. I would pinch and scratch and slap myself to stay awake and beg for forgiveness. At some point I also began praying for the health and safety of every single family member I could think of and then for the health and safety of every person I could recall in my memory from being out and about during the day. I spent entire nights probing my memories for every possible soul who needed my prayers in order to be safe. I had to cycle through them, imagining God cupping his hand down around their home like a shield to keep bad guys from breaking in and to keep fires from happening or violent weather or someone from inside the home from hurting them or aliens from abducting and probing them (Fire in the Sky ruined my life that extra layer) or just whatever else my mind could come up with to be terrified of happening. I had to do this, and I had to do it as many times as humanly possible every night. I would, of course, pass out sometimes. I’d awake with a jolt and grab for my Bible. But, wait… what if it is upside down?! I would think. Surely there are crosses and other things within this Bible that would only invite evil and ensure my spot in Hell if inverted?!  And so I would get up, turn the light on, and check. Getting out of bed every time I was unsure whether or not the Bible was facing the correct way was exhausting -- more exhausting than this whole thing already was. I came up with a solution: tie a cord from the string on my light to the rail of my daybed. That barely lasted a night because I was convinced -- despite the cord being nowhere near slack enough -- that the shit would get wrapped around my neck and kill me (and I would likely die with an inverted Bible in my hands, before I could finish my prayers). Solution? Super-glue a penny into the top left corner inside the front cover of the Bible so that I could just feel in the dark which way the hateful thing was facing. Problem solved (still have the thing).

The next diagnosis I had was Bipolar with Rapid Cycling (maybe some of the readers can see where this is going at this point). Also, the PTSD was bumped up to C (complex)-PTSD. I was put on mood stabilizers, lithium, some new anti-psychotic that was promoted as something else through the commercials on television and anxiety medications. I was in my early twenties at this time. Maybe mid. No later than mid. I had lost my mind after the death of a loved one and uprooted my life with Aidyn to move to Savannah at the petitioning of a couple I had met while I worked at Taco Mac. The wife worked there with me, and the husband came up to see her a few times. He was a tattoo artist and had found work in Savannah. They had outed themselves as swingers to me and requested my presence in their bed more than once. Oh, and they were also the most intensely religious people I’d ever met in real life. I was told that I’d have a job in the tattoo shop so I talked a coworker, Christine, into going down there with me to scout an apartment and “interview” at the shop. Fast forward to meeting my husband and a while with him, having Shane -- There’s a whole lot of dirty and dangerous detail in there, with another couple of stints in hospitals, and a whole lot of Ambien being used for everything but sleeping before this point, but they’re not important to this story.

I have just brushed over something here that is a big issue: skin picking. Excoriation. That has been a daily habit ever since I can remember. I think I have glossed over it so far now because it is not an issue which we are currently dealing with and focused on, but it has gotten so bad on a number of occasions that we couldn’t even go in public. That is not specifically my thing and so I am not very familiar with it, but I do have access to some of the memories we have about it. 

After a couple of stays in jail and yet another hospital stay, I had the diagnosis of Schizoaffective Bipolar Disorder with Psychotic episodes. That one got me to the medications I am currently taking. All of my previous diagnoses still stand. I hit one of my bottoms during this time. There’s a whole lot more that I don’t remember than I do.

A few more stays in jail and a few years of sobriety later, and I had a diagnosis of DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder. I am still navigating that one. I’ve definitely been back forth and all around with this. I have mapped out a timeline of sorts in a journal, and it’s astounding how much sense this diagnosis makes. Finally: A diagnosis that actually fits all the way around. It is still quite alarming, and I am still trying to establish good communication between alters within my inner world and be more okay with referring to us as us or we or a system. We know now that the path we took could have never led us anywhere but here. We understand that only due to our most recent move to a place where we are safe with the kids, were we able to come forward and be known.

DID is a disorder rooted in trauma, and usually only makes itself known after the system has moved away from the direct influence or vicinity of the family member, caregiver, or other person (or people) who make it unsafe for parts of the system to be known. They were birthed by severe trauma and have existed for strictly covert missions to protect the other parts. Walls of amnesia are typically built up around the fractured pieces of personalities (this is always done at a young age -- usually sometime before seven to nine years old -- before personalities integrate into one personality), and stay up and operational in order to keep awareness of the trauma from reaching certain parts. When there’s no longer present and persistent perceived danger, these alters are often left with not knowing what to do with themselves and questioning their own validity and justification for living in an environment where no one needs to be protected. They have been operating within the system for so long in their own way of doing so, and the reactions of parts and systems to no longer being actively life-saving vary widely. They will reach out knowingly or not, and sometimes a system will even break down. 

My story is not atypical. It is a classic story of a journey down Diagnosis Trail through the mental healthcare system. The average amount of time for people to get to a correct diagnosis of DID is seven years after initially becoming a patient  within the mental healthcare system. Finding professionals who are willing to diagnose and treat dissociative disorders is a challenge, because despite the presence of the diagnostic criteria in the DSM-5 and clear cut texts on the treatment of DID, there are many people out there who have so little experience and knowledge of our disorder that they don’t “believe” in it.

This was my diagnosis journey, made intelligible and digestible as I could manage. I know that I touched on several different stories, and I definitely had to skip over so many significant times that came up as I was writing. I mean, I summed up multiple years at a time with just a couple of sentences, some of the time without even one actual meaningful memory to go with them. That’s what this blog is going to be for, in part; though, most of the details of my life are going to be published in my Memoirs. Thank you for reading and feel free to email me with or comment below any questions, comments, or concerns. 

[nehanthpatil-blog]

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There is no need to give any formal details about AOL mail because this is one of the popular webmail. AOL Mail (stylized as AOL Mail.) is a free web-based email service provided by AOL, a division of Verizon Communications. AOL mail is still regarded as one of the best email service providers. In less than 2 minutes, your AOL Mail Account gets created. Yahoo also offers Enhanced Contacts, which displays your contacts' recent messages, shared photos and attachments in addition to standard contact information, such as email addresses and phone numbers.|AOL Mail is not only a free webmail service, but also a popular webmail service in the world. Provide the username to sign into account security page. Type your aol mail sign username (screen name) or your full @ email address. The Signup page will be there asking you to enter your personal details such as First name, last name, expected Username on this platform, Birth date, mobile phone number, Gender, etc.|If you're unable to aol login your aol mail account or are can't create a new one, then you will see errors such as incorrect username or password,” or cannot create a new account”, and more. Just follow the complete guide of AOL mail login account to access your account. I am not able to sign onto AOLMail. You have to provide country code before entering the mobile number. Aol mail login mail, often known as AIM mail, can be a free email service furnished by America Online.

Login is for users who already have an account and want to access their account. Use web address for accessing your AOL account. AOL com email has a spell checking option. Gmail, Yahoo Mail and AOL Mail feature interest-based advertising - in essence, the services scan your emails for keywords and then use that data to load relevant ads.|If you are an existing user of this service, you can enter a Username and Password to login. Having an AOL email account helps your business to flourish in many ways. This matter reveals you learn how to create an account and import messages and settings in order that you can start utilizing Opera Mail.|The most frustrating situation is when you try accessing your AOL email but an unusual error appears, showing that your login credentials are wrong. You can also manage the Sending” option for the sender you want to send the emails. Email and texting allow users to convey essential information.

You can access your AOL email account at free of cost. Now, there are different methods which you can use to recover your AOL Mail's Password. Receiving an error message that AOL mail sign in now cannot happen. An AOL email is a service from AOL that is free and web based.|Like wise, we also have AOL Webmail Service. In the Connect your account dialog box, enter your Display name, AOL Email address, and Password. Finally, proof that you are real human creating AOL email account. Besides two-step verification, features a recovery code that you can use if you lose access to your security information (your phone number and an alternate email address).|Now, email addresses simply aren't cool, and we don't think AOL can do much to change that. Spam Protection and Virus Protection are additional features of AOL Mail. This was discontinued by AOLmail sign in on December 15, 2017. 4:- Now, enter all the details in the signup form to create a new AOL account.