This January I had the first close death and up until that point I had never had anything of that nature really affect me. When he passed it really hit home though and I still can't wrap my head around it, not that it's tearing me up or anything, just that I still can't believe it happened. Everyone has always called me out about not being a caring person, and it hurts, but I still feel weird trying to make myself 'care'. I'm doing a horrible job of explaining it, I know, but it's more of a doubt of everything than being sad over it.
Lately I've been thinking about how little everything matters... Not in a suicide sort of way, I would never do that. But in the way that makes me want to just say fuck it all and walk away. Life is so fleeting and what I do here matters so little. There's very few people that would be affected by any of my actions, it makes me want to do something epic that will make a difference(good or indifferent) but then I just think about how it doesn't matter if I do or I don't. I just think it's amazing how humans have gotten to the point that everything matters so much that they can't imagine throwing it all away. It feels downright liberating to know that if I decided to do nothing but be selfish and do what I want, it wouldn't alter anything.
Which is also a reason I would never get a tattoo. I'm deathly afraid of putting myself in a position of being permanently identified, which the few people I've ever told that to think I'm insane.
roflcopter wrote:This January I had the first close death and up until that point I had never had anything of that nature really affect me. When he passed it really hit home though and I still can't wrap my head around it, not that it's tearing me up or anything, just that I still can't believe it happened. Everyone has always called me out about not being a caring person, and it hurts, but I still feel weird trying to make myself 'care'. I'm doing a horrible job of explaining it, I know, but it's more of a doubt of everything than being sad over it.
Don't let anyone tell you what the best way to mourn is. Also, try not to feel guilty for not mourning 'properly.' However, if the point does come later on (once you've had time to process it) when you do start feeling sad (even if it's a couple of months later), don't be afraid to let it out for fear of it being 'too late' or something.
There's a coping with loss thread in Dear SB if you need it.
“When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained.” - Mark Twain
I'm weak. I broke. Did the thing I'd done very well to not do for a long time.
It wasn't even worth it. I am regretful. I have to start again and try to be better next time.
The death of Lady Diana was also predicted by Moby Dick. __________________________________________________ It's hard being cool. __________________________________________________ You, will never ever ever, get this annoying song out of your head.
I've spent at least half my week thinking about certain things. It's like mind poison. Saps any concentration, makes me edgy, annoyed, and frustrated. Fuuuuuuuuck.
When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up. - CS Lewis
roband wrote:I'm weak. I broke. Did the thing I'd done very well to not do for a long time.
It wasn't even worth it. I am regretful. I have to start again and try to be better next time.
Hey. You aren't weak. You didn't for.. How long? You can go longer next time. And if you break again, you'll do better next time too. Doesn't mean you're weak.
Today I seriously considered making myself throwing up for the first time (earlier, it's only been a fleeting thought). It scares me and I feel out of control. I don't have a proper eating disorder, so I don't feel like I am entitled to professional help. Still I'm kind of losing hope that I'll be able to gain control of my eating once and for all by myself. I feel weak.
Today I seriously considered making myself throwing up for the first time (earlier, it's only been a fleeting thought). It scares me and I feel out of control. I don't have a proper eating disorder, so I don't feel like I am entitled to professional help. Still I'm kind of losing hope that I'll be able to gain control of my eating once and for all by myself. I feel weak.
Spoiler:
Hugs.
It sounds like seeking professional help will help you. You don't have to be above a certain level of severity to "deserve" help. Anyone who wants professional help, deserves it.
Today I seriously considered making myself throwing up for the first time (earlier, it's only been a fleeting thought). It scares me and I feel out of control. I don't have a proper eating disorder, so I don't feel like I am entitled to professional help. Still I'm kind of losing hope that I'll be able to gain control of my eating once and for all by myself. I feel weak.
Spoiler:
Hugs.
It sounds like seeking professional help will help you. You don't have to be above a certain level of severity to "deserve" help. Anyone who wants professional help, deserves it.
Spoiler:
Exactly. I went to a counselor simply for being scared of my professors once. Certainly not a real threat to myself or to anyone else. And yet I still deserved help and it did actually help a bit.
Thanks for the hugs and support. I think I might actually need some help to get this under control. I've e-mailed some people, hopefully they will answer soon.
Apparently Anonymous wrote:Thanks for the hugs and support. I think I might actually need some help to get this under control. I've e-mailed some people, hopefully they will answer soon.
Just from personal experience as someone who struggles with obsessive-compulsive behavior, I would encourage you to get help. At least in my case, these things tend to be progressive and more extreme as time goes on. Many times I've found myself wishing that I had gotten help back before my issues got bigger and tougher.
After developing fears that piece of humanizedmylittlepony fanart (not by me). I posted on another forum was sexist (and slightly sexualized), I figure that it's time for me to evaluate my viewpoints and get around to researching feminist theory like I promised myself I would a while ago or more.
I hate it when I do stupid shit without thinking about the consequences.
Like post things.
Damn.
I really should be working right now, but somehow I don't have the energy.
The Mighty Thesaurus wrote:My moral system allows me to bitch slap you for typing that.
Also, 500th postofficially. I really have much more.
broken_escalator wrote:Everyone knows afros are a hard counter to petrification.
poxic wrote:When we're stuck, flailing, and afraid, that's usually when we're running into the limitations of our old ways of doing things. Something new is being born. Stick around and find out what it is.
I smoked two cigarettes last night, even though I quit 3 weeks ago and was doing fine. And I did some cocaine. And I drank way too much. I feel terrible that I wasn't strong enough. I did break the cigarette a buddy gave me for when I got home though. But man! I swore not to do drugs (besides alcohol, caffeine) anymore, and I quit smoking, and I failed both last night, simply because I got a little drunk. I am that weak. But I won't be from now on. The smoke wasn't that good, and the cocaine just made me sleep terrible. Fuck.
Well, you have realized that the immediate rewards do not make up for your current feelings. So avoiding the undesired actions in the future will be that much easier.
Don’t become a well-rounded person. Well rounded people are smooth and dull. Become a thoroughly spiky person. Grow spikes from every angle. Stick in their throats like a puffer fish.
Hmm... Where to begin? I am terrible with names and faces I will have to meet someone up to 4 or 5 times before I can imprint into my memory that name with that face. It's more than terrible because I work in health care and see people who are sometimes horribly ill. If I didn't have their file in front of me saying "Joe Bloggs" I would have no idea which person they were and which disease was killing them. I actually thought an acquaintance I ran into at a clinic was a coworker for the first 30 seconds the other day until I realised that h child was the wrong age for it to be the coworker. My Father has aspergers, I don't but I think this may be a leftover feature I have inherited. I never feel that I can say "sorry I've forgotten your name" so I just fake it until they introduce themselves. Sometimes I can go years without confirming someone's name.
I sneak vegetables into my soups and casseroles so my husband will eat healthily.
Any spider that enters my house has forfeited its right to life.
"It's not that I condone fascism, or any 'ism' for that matter. ' Isms' in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in any 'ism' they should believe in themselves." - Ferris Bueller
Two months into a 12-step program, and feel like I'm not making much progress. Back-slid a couple times, and have a feeling that it's just a matter of time before it all goes to hell again.
I enjoy getting sunburned. Not because I like the whole "Oh god my skin burns" part, but the peeling off of the dead skin is oddly cathartic. It's like peeling glue off your fingers, but skin. It sounds less creepy in my head, but hey, confession time.
On a more serious note, though. I have some serious psychological issues that I'm consciously not dealing with - along the lines of "I know I have a problem, I know what the problem is, I know what will happen as a result of this problem, but I don't want to change." Whether my unwillingness to change is in spite of or because of the consequences is all the more disturbing and, likewise, disregarded. It's like one half of my brain is saying "Mayday, mayday!" and the other half is saying "Belay that order."
You can refuse to think, but you can't refuse the consequences of not thinking.
thorgold wrote:I enjoy getting sunburned. Not because I like the whole "Oh god my skin burns" part, but the peeling off of the dead skin is oddly cathartic. It's like peeling glue off your fingers, but skin. It sounds less creepy in my head, but hey, confession time.
Seconded! I used to try to get it to peel off in one large unbroken patch - the bigger the better.
I just talked to my brother for an hour straight... I don't think that I've ever really talked to him like he was one of my friends or without being condescending before tonight... It's strange--when we were small children, his being five years younger sort of prevented it... But then when I was in high school, he was in middle school; even when we were in the same room doing the same thing like watching the same show and shouting rude comments at the TV and criticising the show, I don't think it was ever an equal-to-equal or a continuous conversation... I don't know what changed in the past few weeks, but I do sort of feel bad now that I've realised this...
"When your work speaks for itself, don't interrupt." - H.J. Kaiser رات دن گردش میں ہیں سات آسماں ہو رہیگا کچھ نہ کچھ گھبرائیں کیا (غالب)
I guess the older you get, the less age difference matters. I noticed that with my younger sister as well, and I didn't really have any younger friends until they started high school, where I met them.
Eight or nine years ago I borrowed a good friend's copy of Planescape: Torment, the original four-disc version. We went back to our different colleges in different states, and slowly lost touch with each other. But this weekend is our tenth high school reunion, and I was really looking forward to seeing him again. I was even planning on bringing down the discs to return to him. I thought it would be a fun little gesture, and the sort of thing that would get him really excited.
My friend killed himself this summer.
Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do with those discs now?
firechicago wrote:Eight or nine years ago I borrowed a good friend's copy of Planescape: Torment, the original four-disc version. We went back to our different colleges in different states, and slowly lost touch with each other. But this weekend is our tenth high school reunion, and I was really looking forward to seeing him again. I was even planning on bringing down the discs to return to him. I thought it would be a fun little gesture, and the sort of thing that would get him really excited.
My friend killed himself this summer.
Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do with those discs now?
I'm scared to fall asleep... my mind over thinks absolutely everything I've done. Not that I've done a lot of things in my life that I consider bad, or that I have problems living with, it just will not shut off, ever. So I have to keep myself awake till my body basically shuts down. On the plus side I do a lot of reading, and lurking on the forums . Don't know how to solve this problem.
One of my best friends is kind of a huge asshole. An alcoholic who casually uses hateful language including homophobic and racial slurs in social settings. I don't think he's actually a homophobe or a racist, but if he's hurting people with his diction then I don't even know if it matters what his intent is. He just thinks being an asshole is hilarious. I've spoken to him about it and he refuses to change. (Literally, "I won't change.") Sometimes I wonder if I can continue to be friends with him.
"Math is hard work and it occupies your mind -- and it doesn't hurt to learn all you can of it, no matter what rank you are; everything of any importance is founded on mathematics." - Robert A. Heinlein
Cheese: cait, we'd build a castle just for you if we had the resources and manpower. pollywog: cait is probably the only person on the planet that's cooler than me. Cheese: See, caitie knows what she's doing. Listen to her. She is Pretty Fucking AwesomeTM.
My entire life I've wanted to join the US Military. I have the personality and mindset for it and I've grown up in the military culture since I was born (not the "Brat who knows the entire UCMJ" way, but the "Live by a code of excellence" way). There's never been a doubt in my mind about what I've wanted to do or how I wanted to do it - go through school, apply to USAFA, work from there.
But, in the past year especially, I've grown increasingly terrified that I'm going to flat out fail. I can meet academic standards, I can meet physical standards, but for some reason I can't apply anything I know to what I do. I don't know whether it's just a case of lack of confidence, senior year cold feet, or what, but I have this awful feeling in the pit of my gut that I will fail.
Or maybe it's just the depressing-ass weather today.
You can refuse to think, but you can't refuse the consequences of not thinking.