Be advised: this thread is not for serious in-depth discussion of weighty topics (we have a link for that), this thread is not for anything Culture War related. This thread is for Fun. You got jokes? Share 'em. You got silly questions? Ask 'em.
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Notes from Hinge and Bumble's Unpaid Psychiatry Services
Right. Putting doctor/psych trainee in my bio may or may not have been a mistake. I wanted to make it clear that I'm not going to be in India for more than like 3 or 4 months, just about long enough to die from heatstroke and land when it's wet and drizzly in Scotland.
The GMC frowns strongly on a violation of a doctor-patient relationship, especially when the doctor is screwing the patient. In India? Who gives a fuck? A friend of mine, a lawyer, reported that she went with her mom to see a shrink for her depression, and the horny bastard said she didn't need treatment, just an ice cream date.
Now I'm certainly not going to date someone under my care, even in India, only 30% because they're usually grannies with terminal cancer. And their cute granddaughters are probably too distraught to appreciate it, not that I'd be so uncouth as to try.
Unfortunately, I've become convinced that either I'm drawn to crazy women, or they're drawn to me. Or at least 80% of the female population on said apps needs a therapist more than a boyfriend.
Sadly, I nurse a weakness for cute girls who desperately need my help, and my dad-energy manifests so strongly that I've matched with med students to yell at them for being on the apps when their finals are ongoing. More than once. Certainly more than twice.
In no particular order:
Med student I yelled at for being on the apps. Turned out to have abruptly discontinued her SSRIs and having a meltdown. She got yelled at more, since I've been on that campus and know there's a pharmacy outside her dorm. Proceeds to inform me she suspects she's autistic. I say, sure, you're a final year med student giving said finals, you can probably tell, not that a diagnosis is going to do you any good. She then goes on to reveal to me that she's been formally diagnosed with BPD. I'm screaming and reacting with a 💀 emoji. Proceeds to tell me it's not that bad, to which I earnestly disagree. Then reveals that she harbors thoughts of stabbing her classmates with HIV contaminated needles. If it wasn't obvious to you, the deal was off the moment I heard BPD. There are many kinds of crazy, but that is what I'm not going to fuck with. Then "she" proceeds to tell me she's trans, which I genuinely couldn't tell at first on a quick skim (it was obvious later, presuming you knew what to look for, but I mostly matched to yell at her). Shoulda guessed from her being 5'10 in the bio, but at any rate, time to dip. Don't stick your dick in crazy, especially not when they can stick theirs back in you.
Another med student. Clearly in need of therapy, my attempt at psychoanalyzing her after a brief conversation was hilariously accurate in retrospect. Sadly, in the end, all I could provide was a good time. I was kinda serious with her (before I found out that against all odds, I did match into psych), even saw a buddy of hers, yet another med student, admitted to the ICU. Cue her falling for me after seeing my counseling skills with the distraught family and friends (it's a good way to dodge the malpractice suits). Sadly the buddy died, pontine hemorrhage and rebleed, no comorbidities or predisposing factors. Barring a love of biryani, and if that alone was lethal, I'd have passed away a decade back. Anyway, the girl had failed an exam from a prior year, and I was losing sleep trying to convince her to study for her next attempt. She told me not to worry about it, though my genuine concern meant I still did. Lo and behold, a 55 yo married professor with a daughter her age wrote her paper, in front of the entire exam hall, and submitted it in her name, this, in combination with her family being filthy rich and politically connected, meant that I left my concerns about her academics at the door. Then it turned out that she was the kind of party girl who had both a low tolerance for liquor, and a tendency to get frisky with anyone in sight. And said person wasn't necessarily always me. Some drama later, we weren't a thing, both because I simply couldn't trust her, and because she was growing crazy over the fact I was inevitably leaving. Long story, cut very short. I think I lost my most expensive watch, and she hasn't been so kind as to check.
Gyno final year trainee. I hit her up primarily because I was bored, and wanted to see if the uptick in market value from me being a post grad trainee extended that far. Older than me. I was justifiably incensed on her behalf and talking to her when she told me the orthopod she was seeing had dumped her over a text after seeing her for 6 months. Further conversation revealed that she's probably autistic, or just plain weird, being infatuated with me two phone calls in. Still dodging her calls with excuses of being too busy doing unpaid surgery with my dad (he's a Gyno surgeon who also happens to teach laparoscopic surgery to gyne trainees and even other consultants, I wanted to get him a new student if nothing else). But I understood why the previous poor bastard ran for the hills and didn't leave an address.
Fashion designer. Very cute, very sweet, very depressed. I had to talk her out of committing suicide, over the phone at 2 am after counseling another, actual suicide survivor, who wasn't my patient either. But working productively with her issues, seeing a therapist, actually listening to my concerns. Nice girl, I'm kinda sad she has to see me go, especially when she said I actually look good in Hawaiian shirts. I always suspected, but it's good to have a second opinion from an authoritative source.
Law student. Cute. Top of her class. Survivor of multiple suicide attempts, because she didn't take biology lessons past tenth grade, and Google wisely doesn't return results for "painless ways to commit suicide". Asked me on the first date how much paracetamol it takes to off oneself, for purely academic reasons. I had the sense to tell her I categorically refuse to answer that question. Has multiple psychiatrists and therapists. Refuses to see them, or follow their advice. When they do see her, they get depression, mine only gets exacerbated. Also, I suspect they're incompetent, or consider international consensus more of a suggestion. I've seen some absurd prescriptions, including longterm use of a combination of an SSRI and a benzo. Her anxiety is bad, but only in episodes, whereas I think she'd be way better served with a normal SSRI and benzos rarely on a PRN basis. Bunch of other medical comorbidities, but thankfully dodged the genetic mutation causing ADPKD that killed her father early and will probably get her siblings. She's pulled my hair and slapped me on a first date, the only saving grace being she's so weak only the former kinda hurt (and I need to keep my hair). As allergic to medical care as I am to textbooks, and prone to turn violent and call me old should I express any concern for her lack of care for her health.
A rather sweet psychologist doing a fellowship in Psycho-Oncology at another hospital. Met up after work for a date and to talk shop. Then she sees a text from her ex, and proceeds to have a full blown panic attack.. Slept with said ex recently, in the on call doctor's room at their hospital. I could tell she wasn't in any position to date from the moment we met, so I wish her well in figuring her shit out.
And so many more. And some of them, I assume, are good people, who do need a date more than counseling.
Yeah, I'm going to administer all my future dates a mental health questionnaire in the future, I pray that doesn't constitute a therapeutic relationship in the UK, especially when I get up mid date and run myself.
I resent this remark. I've been formally diagnosed with BPD too. To be fair, in my case it's probably a misdiagnosis (I definitely have tendencies in that direction, but you have to stretch to get to 5/9), but it's not like that's unheard-of.
So you have borderline Borderline Personality Disorder?
Look, it's not personal, I'm not one to blame people for their mental disorders or personality problems. Mainly because it doesn't help, or make a difference. But trust me and my far more senior colleague @Throwaway05 that people with BPD can be dangerous. The severity of the symptoms can vary greatly, but even with my proclivities towards waltzing into people's lives with my sleeves rolled up and eager to help, that would be a moth heading right for a naked flame.
When they're good, they're great. When they're not, well, the risk of them ruining your life is frankly unacceptable, and one of them already had a good crack at that from a full degree of separation, didn't even get the crazy good sex bit as compensation.
The more flagrant cases have my profound pity, as do people with certain other mental issues, like my buddy with schizophrenia (as I mentioned elsewhere, it was him who was dating the chick, and I've already mentioned how I had to save him from a suicide attempt not that long ago). I'm more than happy to see people like that in a consultation room, but not in my personal life.
Worst part is that, as far as I'm aware, medical and psychological intervention doesn't make much of a difference. It's largely just the way they are, for factors out of their and my control. All I can do from my end, especially when looking for dates and not patients, is keep them several miles away.
Yes, I figured that pun out several years back. Didn't seem like the best time to make it.
I will admit that I'm significantly more inclined to Drama than average, but while I flounce off forums often enough and occasionally get mad enough to post revolutionary screeds the way some of theMotte does (though not on theMotte itself; after 6/1/2021 I realised that doing this was reckless and have made an effort to stop), to push me into the dreaded escalation spiral IRL takes something major enough that it's typically illegal itself (in the last ten years, I count two: one from being stuck around someone threatening to go spree killer, and one from being blackmailed; I was worse in my teens but I'm only in my early thirties now).
Part of the reason I think it was a misdiagnosis is because I actually have done a course of DBT (which as @Throwaway05 said is the standard treatment), and found it misaimed/counterproductive while the others taking it seemed to find it helpful.
Look, backing off your #1 is probably the right call*, and I've seen borderlines that are that bad or worse myself. Just saying: while it's obviously Bayesian evidence of "run away screaming", the diagnosis isn't a guarantee of such.
*Since she mentioned she's potentially autistic, from what you've said I can't rule out the possibility that her "murder random people with HIV" thing is just low-level intrusive thoughts that she easily ignores and also talks about (when most people wouldn't) because autistic hyperhonesty. If it's not, yeah, absolutely run away screaming. And obviously there's the other issue as well.
Mild symptoms complicate both diagnosis and treatment - much of what DBT is designed to help is for moderate functioning people (can be great) and low functioning people (where it isn't likely to).
Your diagnosis could be wrong, but I'd guess what's happening is that you are well enough, and the underlying biological reality of a borderline brain gets in the way sometimes.
However also possible you are what you are and don't meet criteria for anything.
To give the most obvious example, there was an emphasis on meditation, but all that accomplished for me was sending me catatonic.
Oh, I absolutely meet criteria for HFA/Asperger's and (currently) for depression. And I absolutely do have tendencies in the direction of borderline; I hit two or so of the nine with no question and there are quite a few with at least some question marks. The most obvious thing I categorically don't do is that I've never been a "splitter" (quite the opposite, to be honest), which means I avoid the most severe and characteristic borderline failure mode of "has both the tendency to incorrectly conclude that people are cardboard villains and the temperament for vigilante justice, causing repeated and unwarranted murder attempts and other hostile actions".
It's also worth keeping mind that mental illness almost always impairs insight - your ability to understand and read your mental state may be hampered (not that the average person is truly good at this, but it can be more important in someone who struggles).
Many borderline patients hear the diagnosis and its description and go "thank god, that's me! it all makes sense now." Many go "no that's bullshit I AM TOTALLY FINE LALLAALAL................."
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Look, I won't actually runaway screaming when someone tells me they're BPD. Or they're schizophrenic. I just consider it an absolute deal breaker in romance, going off personal experience gained very painfully.
At most, I will be mildly concerned, but they're not an imminent threat to me unless I'm a close friend or relationship partner, so I intend to avoid that. I don't react to schizos by pulling out a gun, the people they hurt the most are usually themselves, but in my experience, people with BPD are a menace to both themselves and others.
That isn't my impression at all, I feel like she was very serious about it. I have screenshots because, goddamn, people wouldn't believe me if I didn't, at least IRL, and going over them makes me think she's going to end up messing things up very badly. BPD, trans and potentially autistic? That's a recipe for disaster if I've ever heard one.
If you're doing okay, that's great, I'm genuinely happy for you. Manifesto posting on this underwater basket weaving forum is a healthy alternative to cutting yourself or chasing your SO with a knife, and your mod record is pretty clean, so I can't imagine that you act worse IRL than you do on a pseudonymous website.
Yeah, I figured that was a real possibility; it was just that from what you initially said I wasn't clear on that and as such I couldn't give a definite "aieee".
I'm actually still dealing with the social fallout of the blackmail Drama two years back (I miraculously avoided legal trouble, but my uni is mad at me), so I wouldn't say I'm doing okay. But I'm safe enough to be around for people who don't think holding me over the volcano's edge sounds like a great idea (even during Drama I'm pretty good about avoiding harm to bystanders).
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Borderline is better conceptualized as more like depression or anxiety than schizophrenia when it comes to severity. Many people with depression or depressive thought process never present for care, nor do they need it. Some of these people kill themselves.
The same is true with Borderline. At state hospitals in the U.S. you often see a mix of psychosis and severe borderlines who won't stop hurting themselves. It can be very bad. You also have borderlines where the symptoms are so rare or mild that you'd have to have a long relationship with a therapist to catch it.
Don't underestimate how "harmless" it can be.
When it comes to treatment it is treatable. Certain kinds of therapy work (chiefly DBT). Patients accumulate coping skills and calm down just by aging. Medications don't work great but can be helpful for symptomatic management.
Hmm.. I assume my experience here is markedly different primarily because the general level of awareness surrounding mental health in general, and BPD in particular, is so poor that anyone who still manages to get the label is absolutely fucking insane.
And of course, there are plenty of people who keep things under control or are barely worth the diagnosis. And it's the flagrant cases who get signal boosted. Would we know Freddie De Boer was schizo, or Scott had OCD, if they didn't tell us?
That's about as reassuring as the same effect in violent criminals, who do age out of their tendencies. I'd rather not have to wait that long, so I hear BPD, I'm fucking out, at least romantically.
Yeah don't date one, but you gotta keep in mind that if you are seeing them (at this phase in your training) it's either so bad they are on an inpatient psych unit or in the ED, or they are in the hospital for other reasons and they are such a pain in the ass that the diagnosis makes itself clear.
In training you'll get the skills to pick up more mild cases in the community, and presumably also see more mild cases in therapy clinic.
This also is true for things like depression and anxiety (early in training you'll only see total shit shows, but more mild cases exist they just don't need you).
This is also, also true for things like hypertensive emergency vs. generally outpatient family medicine seeing mostly controlled shit.
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Never, ever, EVER, sleep with someone you can diagnose with BPD easily. You're welcome. cries
Excuse me what the fuck with that head bleed.
Social media autism.
All these people are probably borderline.
Once you have training to look for mental illness you'll see it everywhere, especially on the apps.
Tell them Tylenol is the absolutely worst way to die and to use Melatonin instead.
Duly noted, good sir, but in my particular case I didn't have to even sleep with them for one to take a very good shot at ruining my life. That one was the ex of my own best friend at the time (and I ended up catching his schizophrenia in med school myself).
23 yo M med student, final year. No comorbidities is a mild exaggeration, since he had borderline hypertension. His dad was a captain in the Merchant Marine, out at sea when this all went down, but just a week prior, had gotten his son a full checkup, including a then highly unnecessary NCCT brain. All squeaky clean.
Kid was slightly obese, we had some issues getting a line in the EJ.
Anyway, he was in between his written exams and OSCEs, when he was at home with his mom and developed a splitting headache. Got taken to a GP, who told him not to think so much about exams or women, and to sleep it off with a paracetamol.
Face started drooping shortly after, was brought to the ER convulsing, immediately sedated and intubated, rolled into the ICU, then SICU, bleed considered too small for neurosurgery at the time.
I counseled his family, or rather his mom, his friends, most of them from non-medical backgrounds barring the girl, who wouldn't know what a pontine hemorrhage was if it
hit her in the headThe senior consultant, the rest of the hangers on, none of them could convince his mom who was having a fully justified meltdown to go home. She wanted to spend the entire night shivering on a bench (no separate accomodations for the family of an ICU patient). I spent about two hours coaxing, cajoling, arguing, bribing and finally convincing the poor lady to go home after everyone else failed.
The dude was actually improving for the first week, with spontaneous eye opening, some degree of following of commands. Then he had said rebleed, shunt placement didn't help, his GCS dropped to 2T, I got chewed out by a neurosurgeon for asking if he was brain dead, and said brain death was informally relayed two days later, and formally declared a week later when his dad was airlifted off Taiwan and brought to say goodbye.
Funnily enough, no AVM found on multiple kinds of imaging, including an MR angiogram. No kidney disease either. As far as anyone could tell, it was just bad luck. And as far as I can tell, the stereotypes about neurosurgeon ego are entirely justified and universal.
Autism really is my best guess. Zero interpersonal skills, extremely blunt, genuinely curious about how men think about women and what they consider as red flags or worthy of avoidance, with absolutely no insight into her own behavior. The last bit isn't genuinely bad, just an example of how she really seemed clueless. Sure, she could definitely have asked someone far worse at answering that question, but if you need to ask. Shame Aspergers has been deprecated, it was a useful one. Plus she had the same, nigh inevitable, descent into undifferentiated insanity I've seen in every gyno resident, barring the men, who seem to be rather sane. Is she actually mentally ill? I have no idea, but she was off.
Absolutely genius. She's fucked up her sleep cycle enough as is, I can pass it off as a dangerous, controlled sleeping med.
Fuck.
Also OB/GYN is traumagenic. Complicates the psychiatric formulation.
On a more serious note it's worth thinking about the way autism has become a catch all for poor socialization, that isn't to say that these people don't have some form of autism spectrum, just that it's worth being a bit more cautious with it since it's becoming an over diagnosed thing (at least in the U.S., thanks TikTok!).
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There are some timeless pieces of wisdom passed down from generation to generation that unfortunately the majority of people are doomed to re-learn for themselves in incredibly painful ways.
This time, it's "Don't stick your dick in crazy."
Best of luck.
Way ahead of you fam, but I definitely need that luck.
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Ryan Long - Women are Psychos Too
Ryan Long - Stop saying 'All Women are Crazy', it's only 41 million
And I'll leave it there, cause it's Friday Fun Thread, and Ryan Long is fun.
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Apparently paracetamol overdose blows up your liver in a painful and prolonged way, (if quora is to be believed). Seriously though, how hard is it to kill yourself painlessly? Helium's the way to go, is it not? I suppose that's not something you consider with normal rationality.
It strikes me that both women and the US government are very bad at killing people, preferring poison and overly complicated, ineffective methods. In contrast, gas and guns just work.
I didn't resist the urge to lecture her at length about how despite women being more likely to attempt suicide, men are far more successful at it. Got my hair pulled again for the trouble. I'm beginning to see why I always preferred women older than me, though I'm no spring chicken now.
Paracetamol is a terrible way to go, as you correctly point out. We had a scandal recently where a doctor was admitted, post suicide attempt, with liver failure. She was cheating on her husband, another doctor, and had ended up pregnant with the other dude's child.
Her own family disowned her, refusing to even consider donating their livers, whereas the poor bastard she married was willing to give up his, or that of his brother. Sadly, or happily, IMO, neither of them were compatible, and in India, people with organ failure from suicide are heavily deprioritized for transplant lists. At any rate, I don't want to imagine what swimming in unfiltered toxins did to the child.
I should ask about that case, but it's been a week and she's likely already dead.
At any rate, I refuse to seriously opine on the best way to commit suicide even here, but there are painless and relatively simple ways. Women just tend to prefer the less effective route of trying to overdose and slitting their wrists, as this girl tried.
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Don't worry, as a
PakiIndian in the UK you'rebottomvery slightly above bottom rung in terms of dating, and being a doctor is roughly comparable to construction worker in terms of income there.On a more serious note, I've noticed that men who are having decent success (in terms of lots of matches) on dating apps seem to run into a lot of crazies, and it's unsurprising that psych med students have the worst ratio of all. Having "doctor/psych trainee" in your dating app bio kind of screams "do therapy for free, but you can tip me with sex". Neurotypical women also don't really want to date, they want to have a stable relationship, so they spend as little time as possible on these apps, so you're already oversampling from a biased sample.
Eh, while Indians are hardly at the top of the totem pole, I hardly do badly (trivia, the bottom of the pole is allegedly more prestigious).
Sure, the salary sucks, and NHS doctors are henpecked and taken for granted by a populace used to not paying for showing up at the ER with sniffles.
But I do fine. If you think the girls on dating apps are crazy, wait till you see the kind of screenshots I've been sent about the guys. The very existence of Indians as Model Minorities and often the highest earners by ethnicity is proof that group differences can be overcome by an individual. I'm not the average Indian, or even the average British Indian.
When I made my account, post breakup, I had genuinely lost hope I'd match (into psych) at all. I was looking for something more serious, but at least half the nutters came from that short period. At that point, it was just "doctor at [reputable hospital]". And I expected to be here for significantly longer, losing my mind in other ways from the terror of bullshit exams. I was advertising a stable relationship, for the little good that did.
At any rate, I do do therapy for free, and find it an enjoyable reprieve from my own problems, including on this very board, though sadly nobody has offered to pay me back with sex quite yet. Upvotes and sincere praise are enough really. But yeah, people dating online are being sampled from the kind of people who are less likely to make it offline, even if it's become normalized and the predominant way people date. Even more so in the West, so the odds of running into the utterly deranged should be lower from a more representative sampling.
So far, I remain convinced that the primary reason therapy, in all its myriad forms, beats placebo, even for the most retarded forms, is because it's a decent substitute for having a nonjudgemental and perceptive friend, the kind who'll keep your secrets to themselves. I'm pretty good at that, even for women I sincerely would not approach without a syringe loaded full of haloperidol or lorazepam. Instead, I just vent to online strangers with more identifiable information redacted.
Ah, I was being facetious. Highly-educated Indians don't have a bad rep at all (at least not in London where I lived for a while, can't really speak about Scotland but would be surprised if it was different there), and being a doctor has always been in the particular sweet spot of being both reasonably high-status and being a good person that makes women swoon, even if the UK is arguably not the best place to be one. I'd be surprised if you'd struggle terribly.
On online dating in general, the worst at everything are universally men, and more obviously so as well. My point is rather that it seems like "medium-value" guys, while having less matches overall, seem to have a better ratio since mostly serious, normal woman show interest in them. "High-value" guys attract a lot of attention, which will disproportionally be crazy attention. That girls fall in love from like meeting you twice lends credence to this, imo. But in the end this really is just second-hand impressions from acquaintances; I've never used, nor intend to ever use, dating apps myself.
On therapies, I've gotten that impression more than once; Though it also seems to be the reason why some people seem to get stuck in therapy perpetually.
Don't worry, I could tell you were (mostly) joking, heh.
Unfortunately, the fact that the social status and respect for doctors has been grossly devalued in the UK compared to their peers in both India and the US isn't a joke. Let's not even talk about NHS wages.
Possibly, though the only people who really talk the most about online dating are those men for whom it goes very poorly, or very well (I reserve judgement on my situation). I'm certainly not filtering as aggressively for red flags as I could be, given that I sincerely hope my sins and little self_made_humans will be left behind here. That reminds me, I should get my criminal background check at the local police station done with ASAP, before one of the unfixable ones does something in which I could be remotely implicated.
There's likely a large silent majority of decent dudes matching with women who are just their type, after a decent amount of effort.
Sadly it does seem I'm rather lovable, the two steady relationships that ate up the last 7.5 years of my life were rather whirlwind. But I mostly blame the utter lack of common sense and decorum in the Average Indian Male, I've seen even the ones hotter and richer than me get rejected because they almost literally open up with "hey bby wan sum fuk?".
I expect more competition abroad, but I've handled tougher challenges. Hopefully I trick some poor woman I want to fall for me into a long term relationship, my ex was close but no cigar in the end.
This decision has my full throated approval. Sadly, I'm both very busy right now and will be in the NHS, and so I had little to lose. I'm sure I can meet people in person, through friends of friends and the like, haunt the local pubs and get liver cirrhosis. The good stuff.
Ideally, therapy should be a temporary recourse, with a strict time limit in mind, after which a good therapist will flat out tell you it's not working and that you need to try someone or something else. But my experience so far suggests that some people do need it nigh indefinitely, sadly.
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Bro, just listen to your aunt, and take the arranged marriage.
I nominated this for an AAQC.
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I tried to come up with a cogent counterargument and find I'm coming up short.
Look, they weren't all that bad. The psychologist will presumably recover, once she stops screwing her ex. The fashion designer, well, she's doing better. There were definitely better dates, plenty, though I can't really commit with the whole leaving the country thing ahead. But I make sure they know that, I would despise myself for leading someone on.
There are certainly several more who I can pass off as sane, but there's not much to say about them, barring some flirting and early morning goodbyes. It's the crazies, the damaged ones I remember the most, mostly because they had me feverishly leafing through my textbooks to figure out if I was the one going insane.
Here's hoping that Scottish girls are notably less psychotic on average, but I'll be honest, it feels nice to help people who desperately need it, though as you can tell, even I have my boundaries and soon enough, a justified fear of losing my license, so said boundaries only get tighter. At the very least I know that I am very good at the whole counseling and talking people into doing what's good for them thing, even if I can't prescribe more than SSRIs and benzos (and wouldn't want to, I send them to more qualified psychiatrists most of the time). At worst, I know my voice can lull them to sleep, which is worth something I guess. I'm not kidding when I said one of them was actively suicidal and about to do something awful, but thankfully it seemed to be more of a single isolated episode on a background of severe depression, so yeah, probably saved her.
Whereas the thought of an arranged marriage just makes me depressed. I can't always fix them, but I'm happy to let them make me worse.
I strongly disagree with arjin - you should find someone who's in a similar IQ / competence percentile that you are and I doubt the arranged marriage will be.
Haha, don't worry, I'm not quite ready to give up on dating yet, be it online or in person. The six women (or 5 and a "woman") I described are just the worst of the lot, though the fashion designer and psychologist seem to me like decent people going through a bad time.
My aunt, PBUH, is trying to look for single med students and doctors, or at least those were the ones she laid on the table when nobody asked. I'd hope that acts as a reasonable filter for IQ or competence. My own IQ, well it's respectable, and my competence has improved by leaps and bounds, yet I'd certainly appreciate a girl who has her shit together better in comparison, though I'm certainly much better than I used to be in that regard. Turns out that a great deal of my depression was from a sense of frustration that my career wasn't going anywhere, and all I had to look forward to was beating my head against the wall of more exams. Fortunately, said wall has crumbled before my cranium did, and I'm feeling much better. Certainly to the degree I'm going around trying to (misguidedly) help people with their issues.
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Scottish girls in my experience have extraordinarily high variance. You seem to be good at spotting the dysfunctional ones, and they get extremely dysfunctional, but the remainder of the dating pool are extremely sensible and down-to-earth while remaining endearing. Chance of meeting the latter is significantly higher in the countryside, set your radius wide and learn to enjoy a scenic drive. (Also, Highland Scots drive like particularly suicidal third worlders, so you'll be well-prepared for them)
I find the accent endearing, and I understand them well enough, though some scotch makes it even better.
I suppose this is a plus, given that I'm working as a psych trainee there for the next 3 years. It would kinda suck for me to end up somewhere where everyone is sane, though I'd be very happy for them lol.
What concerns me is that a lot of these women hide their issues from a shrink, and only open up to a flirtatious yet good at getting people to talk guy like me. For example, the law student, and another lawyer (we were old acquaintances before running into each other on Bumble, and now I'm an unpaid relationship counselor for her too), disclose maybe 5% of what the fuck is going on to their psychiatrists and therapists.
Now, I'd call myself perceptive, but I'm not a mind reader, so I'm groaning at the notion of teasing these things out from actual patients, especially since flirting with them is off the cards.
Understandable. If you run into someone on a narrow country lane, there can only be one (someone has to drive in reverse).
Yep, that sounds familiar. The Scots have, though, for better or for worse, much less of a culture of hiding dysfunction (I'm sure you've seen the photos of Glasgow nightlife). If you're working for the NHS you're likely to be dealing with serious cases whose immediate and undeniable problems will take up the vast majority of your bandwidth - the cases I touched were generally horror stories and I was just a volunteer. So, uh, at least the neuroses of the genteel are likely to be more of an issue on dating apps than at work.
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Take it from an older, more experienced man. If you meet them in the midst of mind numbingly retarded self inflicted consequences, they never stop. Sure, she might stop fucking her ex, but then maybe she'll fuck her boss. Or her friend's husband. Or cut of all her hair and join a cult. Or decide she's trans. And on and on and on. Stupid doesn't just go away.
Not my circus, and I medically discharged her as unfit for dating after that episode, so not my monkey either. I just happen to keep in touch.
I did feel bad for her, so at least I did the gentlemanly thing of consoling her, getting her something to drink and holding her in a nearby park while she cried her heart out. I did my best not to let the date get too awkward while handing her more tissues as she sniffled away. Even consoled her later, though I think she understood that I wasn't in a position to deal with that, given that I had a painful breakup recently myself (not that I ever let it break me down so utterly, I just drink another shot of whiskey, healthy coping mechanisms you see).
She's seeing a therapist herself, though I imagine that gets a bit awkward. But she'll get over it.
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I’m convinced my brother’s sketchy (I would use the word ratchet, but I feel like that has connotations of being black, and she was definitely white) college hookup stole a very nice vintage cartier watch my grandmother gifted to me. It wasn’t worth a lot of money (I assume she took it because of the brand) but it was very valuable to me. I had left it in my parents kitchen because I wanted my dad to take it to be repaired.
It’s part of the reason I could never have a one night stand. The idea of letting a complete stranger into your house surrounded by all your valuables, private documents (even stuff like bills lying around, wallets full of cash and credit cards, medical data) and then going to sleep such that they could literally get up and help themselves to whatever they want and you wouldn’t even know if they’d taken something you don’t use often or if they’d just photographed private information or something seems so irresponsible. I’m probably just neurotic but my trust in the kindness of strangers isn’t that high.
And as you say, once it’s gone, what can you do? “Oh, I happen to have recently lost a necklace, can you look for it?”. It’s not as if you have enough to go to the police, and it might take weeks or months to realize it’s gone.
Love hotels ftw.
To lengthen this post past frivolousness, there's still the danger of having one's wallet lifted, or watch stolen, etc. But you can't get out of a love hotel unless you've paid, at least in the modern iteration. That means both parties are shut-ins until the bill has been settled at the little machine on the wall.
Of course the criminal-minded can be creative so this is no guarantee of safety from theft, or, you know having your head cut off, which is considerably more of an inconvenience.
Doesn't that run into issues with the trilemma of a) not have an emergency exit, and get arrested for manslaughter when there's a fire vs. b) have an emergency exit that can be opened all the time, and now you can get out without paying vs. c) have an emergency exit that only opens if there's a fire, and incentivise arson?
I can't speak for all love hotels, obviously. Emergency exits I believe are always available on each floor, but rooms themselves are locked. I presume in a fire the rooms would auto unlock and the exits are right there. Love hotels typically have no windows or very small ones and so there are no fire escapes of that sort.
Theft and arson here do occur, but crime in general isn't as common as the US at least. Arsons are particularly egregious because it is impossible to contain fire in densely populated areas. When they are perpetrated here the arsonists are usually found to be mentally ill.
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I have always sort of assumed this was part of the hotel/motel trope. Obviously with extramarital affairs on both sides you'd need some other place to go, but with one night stands it further cements the ephemeral nature of the interaction: neither of you even knows where the other lives.
It's interesting, the people I know who have had one night stands and have talked about it did in fact have them at either their or their partner's residence.
I think a major factor is that most of them were having these one night stands while young and/or broke, so getting a hotel for the night would not be a negligible expense.
I think another factor is that you maintain the thinnest veneer of plausible deniability that you're just going to hang out when inviting someone back to your place, whereas there's no reason to go to a hotel/motel with someone you met at a bar except to fuck.
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I mean, I don't really blame her, if I lost my watch on her nightstand, it was because I was hungover and leaving at 5 am to catch some sleep before I had a shift that morning. I'm more upset by the multiple massive hickeys she left me, in highly visible places. Had to collar up for a while. Had a lovely old lady and her husband giggling like teenswhen I spent a good while both reviewing her for her diabetes and discussing the career of her son, an Indian doctor who had done his psych degree in the UK and fucked off to Singapore, married a Chinese GP, and is living happily ever after. It turned out that I had unbuttoned my collar late at night in the heat, and forgotten about it. Cue a very good poker face while I took her history and pretended to have no clue what they were chuckling about. Coincidentally, that was the night I found out that I did match into psych, I swung by to say hi in the morning and had to profusely apologize for not bring her sweets as is tradition (not the best idea for an uncontrolled diabetic). A coincidence, but a nice one. The watch and hickeys were a small price to pay.
To be fair to the med student, I might have left it at a hotel after a night out with another doctor, I only wear watches on special occasions. She just happened to have a spare apartment lying around, whereas mine is used as a storehouse for several tons of physical copies of medical records. An abominable place, hers, with three live cockroaches feasting off the corpses of their countless deceased brethren, awaiting Springtime when she comes back from her modestly distant med school on weekends to catch up with friends and fuck the odd dude or two, with the leftover takeout and open alcohol bottles sufficient sustenance to last them till next time. Eh, she was very hot, and my stint in a government hospital has made me rather tolerant of roaches.
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