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Depression sucks. I hate it. I have it. I hate it.
It's been pretty bad for the past few days and it's led me to not always be in the best of moods. Mood swings are fucked. Having multiple personalities all trying to be the dominant one at varying times can do that. It ain't fun. It's rather tiring.
The universe and I have not been all that compatible. For a long time, I've considered this version of reality to be a concept based on absurdity. It's also based on some strange karmic fate that I was never meant for it. It's like I was supposed to be born in a more sensible universe, but something got lost in transit.
Pretty much anywhere I go or whatever walk of life I've been around, whether it's in First Life or Online I can always tell I'm a little too different for my own good. I don't engage in a lot of the conversations here or at the other boards, because I just don't feel like being reminded. I think I've been reminded enough. Plus, there's always going to be a problem with me. Someone's gonna have something to hold against me somewhere.
I'm bi so I'm "confused" or "faking for attention."
I'm a white dude, so I'm of the "privileged" class that gets handed every opportunity while taking from others.
The dude part means that I'm just one bad statement away from cancellation, by either "friends" or strangers looking for an excuse or just being a man means I automatically suck as a human being.
I come off as feminist though so the men's rights types don't care for me, or some "white knight" bullshit.
I don't believe enough in whatever iteration of organized religious thinking so I'm an "infidel" or a "heathen."
I'm politically independent so I'm a "fence sitter."
I live in a section of the world that's determined to dial the clock back instead of forward when it comes to human progress.
I've been driven insane clinically at least once just from living despite the occasional longing to die so I get to live with that stigma for the rest of my life.
I resemble most everything about this universe I despise. I'm like this existence's mirror. I'm also hideous to look at.
One of the reasons I've been online so much is because of the free time and the inability to move around all that well.
I have mental, psychological, and some physical disabilities. It was decided by people who get to make these decisions that I could still work.
When the meds kick in real good, I can't do a damn thing. Hell, I can barely do this without wanting to pass the fuck out.
I suffer from constant dizziness. I have anxiety which I haven't been able to take proper medication for for over a year now, because money.
What the assholes who decided I was healthy enough to work didn't say was "By the way, here's a place ready to hire you and work within your limitations."
What little money I do bring in is from some shit I used to be involved in years ago.
I used to do some things, but those things are gone and not having a car isn't a help.
I live in a world ready to call me every bad thing it can think of at the opportune moment and from a variety of individuals who otherwise may just go back to arguing with one another.
My Dad's become a Fox News/NewsMax/Facebook animal and where independent thought once existed, little does now. He's a good man, but it's also because of him Mom doesn't want me being as open about certain facets of myself. My Mom's a good woman and wanted me to not be indoctrinated socially like she or Dad was when they were growing up, but at the same time I can tell both parents are disappointed I didn't choose that path on my own anyway. Not to mention she only takes credit for whatever good I've become and none of the bad. She still refuses to take credit/blame for teaching me the N-word and what it means when I was a child.
I am a burden on my family. I'm the other son whose sole function is to not be a total embarrassment to my nephew and niece who love me. It also sucks knowing that if my family ever stumble onto this post, it'll just make things worse.
I've come dangerously close to suicide a few times. The first was freshman year in high school and the last one a few years ago sent me to the hospital where I got to spend 5 lovely days with crayon eaters and guys with fake Jamaican accents. Sometimes my motivation is to keep on living. Other times, it's not wanting to wind up back in that hellhole on the 3rd Floor again.
I had a friend who decided it was better to not be a friend anymore, because I'm a fan of Ghostbusters [2016] and ridicule was more important to him. This same motherfucker likes Hell Raiser and I've never cared for that shit, but I was always respectful to him, because that's his thing. The respect I give others often isn't reciprocated.
I've lost other friends for other reasons. I'm great at losing friends. It's one of the few gifts I have that isn't creative or musing.
I hate this fucking place. I hate this fucking place where I live and have ever since I moved here when I was 9. Sadly, moving around a bit as a construction brat, other places weren't much better though some had their highlights at least. For whatever it's worth, where I live hates me too and always has. Always will.
I grew up with a generation of teachers who may have known how to teach, but not teach me. I've had people ask me what college I went to and they're astounded when I tell them I barely made it out of high school.
My escape usually involves some form of mental masturbation that usually winds up going nowhere. Like I'll want to write a story of some kind and map out details on it then finally give up on it. I've spent a lot of time trying to please people despite knowing it's never gonna happen or if it does, it's fleeting. I have the mind of a wealthy businessman, the income of a servant, and the execution of an ill-timed fart.
I'm diplomatic yet lack tact. I'm versatile in all the wrong ways.
These days, I basically go from my bed to the bathroom or the kitchen and back. Not much else outside of that matters. Sometimes I'm able to ride along and get out of the house and hopefully not get too dizzy and fall down in public. Or have a heart attack or snap. Social anxiety doesn't help either. I remember a few years ago, there was this big get-together in Charlotte with the Soundoff guys and I decided last second not to go, because I wasn't feeling good and didn't want to risk driving that far just to find myself around a bunch of people who might not care for me anyway or that it turns out I don't care for. Or risk getting lost in the rain trying to find wherever that was supposed to be.
There are times where I space out and struggle to think of something good. When something good comes to mind, I'm reminded that I've likely lost someone or something over whatever that good is. I go back to being reminded where I'm at both physically and psychologically. That I've been devalued too often by family, friends, and others as a human being and nothing's going to change that. Sadly, I'm the one who winds up apologizing, because it can never be anyone's fault, but mine.
No matter what I do or try, I'll always be seen as either a bad person or potentially a bad person worth avoiding and/or losing.
I hate depression. I hate living like this, because this ain't living.
I'm not trying to get laid or get sympathy or get whatever it is whenever someone feels low enough to post something like this when they probably shouldn't. I'm just tired.
Gonna medicate and disappear for a bit. Maybe I'll be back in time for a game thread or something. Maybe it'll be longer. I don't know.
Depression sucks. I hate it. I have it. I hate it.
It's been pretty bad for the past few days and it's led me to not always be in the best of moods. Mood swings are fucked. Having multiple personalities all trying to be the dominant one at varying times can do that. It ain't fun. It's rather tiring.
The universe and I have not been all that compatible. For a long time, I've considered this version of reality to be a concept based on absurdity. It's also based on some strange karmic fate that I was never meant for it. It's like I was supposed to be born in a more sensible universe, but something got lost in transit.
Pretty much anywhere I go or whatever walk of life I've been around, whether it's in First Life or Online I can always tell I'm a little too different for my own good. I don't engage in a lot of the conversations here or at the other boards, because I just don't feel like being reminded. I think I've been reminded enough. Plus, there's always going to be a problem with me. Someone's gonna have something to hold against me somewhere.
I'm bi so I'm "confused" or "faking for attention."
I'm a white dude, so I'm of the "privileged" class that gets handed every opportunity while taking from others.
The dude part means that I'm just one bad statement away from cancellation, by either "friends" or strangers looking for an excuse or just being a man means I automatically suck as a human being.
I come off as feminist though so the men's rights types don't care for me, or some "white knight" bullshit.
I don't believe enough in whatever iteration of organized religious thinking so I'm an "infidel" or a "heathen."
I'm politically independent so I'm a "fence sitter."
I live in a section of the world that's determined to dial the clock back instead of forward when it comes to human progress.
I've been driven insane clinically at least once just from living despite the occasional longing to die so I get to live with that stigma for the rest of my life.
I resemble most everything about this universe I despise. I'm like this existence's mirror. I'm also hideous to look at.
One of the reasons I've been online so much is because of the free time and the inability to move around all that well.
I have mental, psychological, and some physical disabilities. It was decided by people who get to make these decisions that I could still work.
When the meds kick in real good, I can't do a damn thing. Hell, I can barely do this without wanting to pass the fuck out.
I suffer from constant dizziness. I have anxiety which I haven't been able to take proper medication for for over a year now, because money.
What the assholes who decided I was healthy enough to work didn't say was "By the way, here's a place ready to hire you and work within your limitations."
What little money I do bring in is from some shit I used to be involved in years ago.
I used to do some things, but those things are gone and not having a car isn't a help.
I live in a world ready to call me every bad thing it can think of at the opportune moment and from a variety of individuals who otherwise may just go back to arguing with one another.
My Dad's become a Fox News/NewsMax/Facebook animal and where independent thought once existed, little does now. He's a good man, but it's also because of him Mom doesn't want me being as open about certain facets of myself. My Mom's a good woman and wanted me to not be indoctrinated socially like she or Dad was when they were growing up, but at the same time I can tell both parents are disappointed I didn't choose that path on my own anyway. Not to mention she only takes credit for whatever good I've become and none of the bad. She still refuses to take credit/blame for teaching me the N-word and what it means when I was a child.
I am a burden on my family. I'm the other son whose sole function is to not be a total embarrassment to my nephew and niece who love me. It also sucks knowing that if my family ever stumble onto this post, it'll just make things worse.
I've come dangerously close to suicide a few times. The first was freshman year in high school and the last one a few years ago sent me to the hospital where I got to spend 5 lovely days with crayon eaters and guys with fake Jamaican accents. Sometimes my motivation is to keep on living. Other times, it's not wanting to wind up back in that hellhole on the 3rd Floor again.
I had a friend who decided it was better to not be a friend anymore, because I'm a fan of Ghostbusters [2016] and ridicule was more important to him. This same motherfucker likes Hell Raiser and I've never cared for that shit, but I was always respectful to him, because that's his thing. The respect I give others often isn't reciprocated.
I've lost other friends for other reasons. I'm great at losing friends. It's one of the few gifts I have that isn't creative or musing.
I hate this fucking place. I hate this fucking place where I live and have ever since I moved here when I was 9. Sadly, moving around a bit as a construction brat, other places weren't much better though some had their highlights at least. For whatever it's worth, where I live hates me too and always has. Always will.
I grew up with a generation of teachers who may have known how to teach, but not teach me. I've had people ask me what college I went to and they're astounded when I tell them I barely made it out of high school.
My escape usually involves some form of mental masturbation that usually winds up going nowhere. Like I'll want to write a story of some kind and map out details on it then finally give up on it. I've spent a lot of time trying to please people despite knowing it's never gonna happen or if it does, it's fleeting. I have the mind of a wealthy businessman, the income of a servant, and the execution of an ill-timed fart.
I'm diplomatic yet lack tact. I'm versatile in all the wrong ways.
These days, I basically go from my bed to the bathroom or the kitchen and back. Not much else outside of that matters. Sometimes I'm able to ride along and get out of the house and hopefully not get too dizzy and fall down in public. Or have a heart attack or snap. Social anxiety doesn't help either. I remember a few years ago, there was this big get-together in Charlotte with the Soundoff guys and I decided last second not to go, because I wasn't feeling good and didn't want to risk driving that far just to find myself around a bunch of people who might not care for me anyway or that it turns out I don't care for. Or risk getting lost in the rain trying to find wherever that was supposed to be.
There are times where I space out and struggle to think of something good. When something good comes to mind, I'm reminded that I've likely lost someone or something over whatever that good is. I go back to being reminded where I'm at both physically and psychologically. That I've been devalued too often by family, friends, and others as a human being and nothing's going to change that. Sadly, I'm the one who winds up apologizing, because it can never be anyone's fault, but mine.
No matter what I do or try, I'll always be seen as either a bad person or potentially a bad person worth avoiding and/or losing.
I hate depression. I hate living like this, because this ain't living.
I'm not trying to get laid or get sympathy or get whatever it is whenever someone feels low enough to post something like this when they probably shouldn't. I'm just tired.
Gonna medicate and disappear for a bit. Maybe I'll be back in time for a game thread or something. Maybe it'll be longer. I don't know.
Depression sucks. I hate it. I have it. I hate it.
...) Troubles are all the same though, I regretted then and still regret that you did not make the Charlotte meet up. VTSmitty was one of the most dynamic individuals I have ever met in my life, he exuded love. It was a meeting of old friends, you remain one of them, we just haven't met in person yet. I know that you are a person of incredible integrity. At the end of the day that's what we've got. You stay strong, be true to yourself because you are an admirable person. That's the view from here...
