Never realised quite how much I dislike my family’s house until I’d spent so much time away from it, in an environment I definitely prefer.
Worst part is I can’t say it like that - or possibly at all - because they’ll all take it personally.
Yep, it’s definitely the people, for sure, mmhm. Couldn’t be the bacterial stench of the kitchen, the sticky dirty fridge full of things that don’t constitute an actual meal, the complete lack of counter or floor space anywhere, the seemingly ubiquitous animal excrement, the dirty clothes strewn everywhere, the constant mess of papers and books and magazines that nobody needs or reads, the heater that doesn’t really heat the second floor, the hallways you have to squeeze through because there’s too much stuff in the way, the whole rooms of the house we can’t even enter because they’re too cluttered, the paint peeling off the walls inside and out, the holes in the drywall and sheetrock, the food trash thrown every which way, the random eating utensils underfoot, the bathroom walls covered with a fine but noticeable presence of black mold, the constant noise and screaming and yelling and barking and swearing and anger and fighting and dysfunction…no, it’s gotta be the people.
Definitely. I clearly just hate my family, that’s all. I’m just a bitter fucking prick, an ungrateful spoiled brat who has no idea how good he has it. I just hate my family and that’s why I don’t contribute anything to them, why I don’t do any chores or pay any attention to their activities or support them in any way ever. I clearly just hate my family because even though I want to be treated like an adult, I don’t deserve it because I don’t act like an adult at all, no, because an adult would take the initiative and work to make things better for everybody because an adult would be selfless and think of others, like his loving, supportive family members, none of whom are ever racist or sexist or aggressive or belligerently anti-equality or verbally abusive or condescending or ableist in any way, never, because they’re too busy being kind and caring and respectful, cleaning up their messes (if they make any, of course) and taking on responsibilities and working together and being productive and supportive and shit like that.
But it’s totally unfair of me to point that out because I wasn’t even there for two and a half years, and I’m such a fuck-up anyway that what would I know, right? I don’t know how to interact with them and I treat them terribly and I’m bitter and awful and should probably just die or at the very least move out except I can’t because I’m too much of a fuck-up to hold down a job or an income or even a girlfriend because that clearly comprises the entirety of an accurate judgment of my character and dictates the nature of my moral fibre, yes indeed.
But I probably don’t even have that, either, because I’m an atheist, after all.
Yet, all things considered, I still can’t help feeling repulsively unattractive, like anything good that happens or is said to me is just to humour me because everybody’s so fucking afraid of the truth. Even if the truth isn’t that bad at all, it becomes “scared of hurting me,” and that’s just fucking insulting, is all.
I felt like posting something, but the anxiety shit has died down to such an extent that, quite thankfully, I’ve nothing to get off my chest. Yay!
So I’ll just complain about how hot it is in my room. Seriously. I can’t win. Either too cold OR too hot. Doesn’t matter if the door is open or the air conditioner is set to “fan” mode. Or both. Nope, I’m just sitting here roasting.
Talk to your doctor (whomever prescribes your existing medications) about Xanax, specifically extended-release Xanax. The XR derivative is drawn-out enough that it's even safe to drive and so on. As I'm sure you know (judging by your replies to previous questions) Xanax is a benzo (alprazalam, which you also probably knew) so the effects will be similar to what you're used to. It might be exactly what you need to get through the day. Believe me, I KNOW. FWIW, different anon entirely here.
Worth a shot. It’s not that my current anti-anxiety stuff doesn’t work for me - it does - my concerns are related to how it interacts with my other necessary medications >.<
Driving is a concern, though. I’ll ask. I need to have something to keep this shit in check before it overwhelms me and ruins my life. Constant anxiety and panic is no way to live. It pushes away one’s loved ones, family and friends and all, and leaves me feeling even more alone than before. It’s not fair to anybody, especially the people who care about me.
At this point I’ll do just about anything to stop myself from pissing off everybody around me by being such a nervous wreck. It’s just objectively unfair to them. I don’t care how unhealthy that sounds, it’s proven true time and time again. I feel like my parents would kick me right the fuck out if their moral fibre was just a tiny bit weaker, and I can’t imagine how they feel as it is. :(
Hey so it might be nice when meeting a cool new person to not list all of your diagnoses, meds, personal milestones (started smoking? drinking? fucking?)… unless they do first, and make it seem interesting.
I swear this girl reminds me of a character from a movie I saw bits of lately, about a bipolar guy in Philly and his struggles to re adapt or something. No idea what it’s called.
Well at least I’m not at home. I’m really no good at UrbanTerror anyway. :/
Big-picture? Nope. Not right now, anyway. It’s nothing new, just nothing I wanted to deal with ever again. Sorry. Not up for talking about it, especially in a public forum. Don’t mean to sound dramatic but…it’s kinda dramatic in a certain light. XD
I’m an okay Jaska though. I’ve always been a reasonably okay Jaska. There are much better Jaskas out there, though - they happen to play in a couple of my favourite bands - but I’m not too terribly awful, all things considered.
I appreciate the concern, but coming from somebody anonymous it’s a bit creepy, honestly. Bear in mind I’m unfortunately accustomed to being kicked while I’m down, so I’m naturally (and totally unfairly) suspicious of people asking if I’m “okay” without clear motive. I’m sorry, I know that sounds bizarre, but then again I’m pretty bizarre, and I NEVER get this many messages in one day, or even one month, and I’ve already alienated enough people today, so if you’re actually somebody I know please text me or send me a Facebook message or SOMETHING that’s not 100% anonymous and untraceable, please, because I\m really REALLY not into mystery and uncertainty right now by any stretch of the imagination.
all sleep aids, OTC or otherwise, carry at least some risk of dependency. OTC may be mild, but it gets more pronounced as one heads into Ambien territory (for example). there's physiologically *no way* to alter one's sleep patterns (read: basal neurotransmitter activity) in a non-habit-forming manner. that said, you're 100% right in that they won't do much, if anything, for people with anxiety issues (for instance) since they tend to mess with dopamine levels as well. i feel for ya, honestly. :|
Believe me, no need to explain the pharmacokinetics. ;) Not only have I thoroughly researched it, I’ve lived it. I don’t know if you’re the same anon as before, but regardless, can we perhaps stop talking about drugs and sleeping and mental issues entirely? it’s really not what I need right now. I appreciate the sentiment / solidarity, though, honestly.
Why refuse sleep aids outright? They might be a godsend!
One would hope, right? They don’t work for me. They’re primarily designed for people whose biological rhythm is disrupted by physiological inconsistencies. Provided my back isn’t acting up, I’m physically 100% capable of sleeping soundly. It sucks. Not terribly, though. Prescription sleep aids have loads of not-yet-fully-investigated long-term side effects, you know. Even OTC diphenhydramine (see: Advil PM, Zzzquil, Benadryl et al.)
Better to pull up the roots than pluck off the leaves, I say.
It bothers me that although possibly the worst thing I can imagine is being ignored, I nonetheless get in bizarre moods where I just really don’t feel like talking to or responding to people.
I can’t even give a good reason. Not one. It’s not even overarching. I’ll talk to some people no matter what. Others I’ll go days before responding to a text or whatever.
At least I have some courtesy, I think, in explaining (or attempting anyway) that I just don’t feel up to talking. It’s exhausting keeping track of so much at once, and now I remember why it’s so hard to have more than two or three friends.
Because no matter how hard we try, we do pick favorites. Doesn’t matter how different they are from each other, doesn’t matter what we get or don’t get out of the friendship. Feelings suck and I hate them.
I’m supposedly this 21-ish-year-old fully functional adult. Yeah, right. I still jump into things way too fucking fast and get in over my head in no time. Then before I know it, I’m doing the whole excuses thing again and it’s back to square one eventually, and I’m really not about that anymore.
It was so hard to leave this afternoon. The two Jaskas are getting more and more pronounced. In a way, I guess it’s good that the super-stressed one stays holed up in that hideous dilapidated house in Pennsylvania and doesn’t go out and bring down his only friends with him…but he’s really gotta go regardless, because he’s very clearly not welcome anymore.
Why the fuck does Facebook still only let me pick “male” or “female?” There’s no “custom” option.
For a horrifying moment, I thought the whole thing was a cruel and unusual hoax, but NPR (that hallmark of reliable media, lolz) ran an article from the perspective of the Facebook staff member that definitely tells me it’s a real thing that I’m just not seeing anywhere. The comments on that article are…saddening, to say the least. Remember that NPR’s audience is primarily far-left social progressives and economic authoritarians, so the fact there’s so much insensitivity present is…unfortunate, to say the least.
Ignorance, well, that’s to be expected. The principles of idealism that comprise a significant portion of both the foundation and keystone of no-holds-barred progressivism* have an unusual tendency to promote horribly misinformed perceptions of what it really means to be “different.”
It’s interesting, though, to note that Facebook’s decision to expand the options for “gender” selection to 50, while agreeably a step in the right direction, is still rather a slap in the face to those at the forefront of the multitude of equality, awareness, and visibility movements. This whole “identity” topic wasn’t even around a decade or two ago, nor were at least half of the words used in and around the general movement so much as in our vocabulary.
The issue of sexuality and gender identities having definitions (or, as the case may be, limited or no definition) in a public space has become relevant in a fervent, almost aggressive manner in a very short amount of time.
It’s a legitimate concern of mine that the great speed at which the gender identity visibility movement(s) is/are progressing and moving - or forcing themselves - well into the public eye is the biggest obstacle to its/their success. To even people who are educated and open-minded, it can seem from a distance that we’re clamoring to “express ourselves” in as many different ways as possible from “everyone else.”
I remember a time when “LGBT” was good enough. Then they added Q. Then, as we added more letters, we began simply telling people to just use the word “queer” for fuck sake because pretty soon we’re just gonna recite the alphabet and plus, what if you aren’t sure? We can’t have two Qs (queer and questioning) in the acronym. That’s just absurd. If you’re questioning, you might not be queer, but you’re definitely not “like everybody else.” And that’s fine.
I miss being able to simply agree that gender identity is fluid, the the very concept of “gender” at all is a social construct that exists independently of biological factors, but on that topic I’m afraid I can progress no further, as even I, with my extensive science background, am apparently incredibly misinformed to the point of what I once considered scientific knowledge being instead no more than “elementary school bullshit.”
I spend the vast majority of my time dwelling upon issues of neurodiversity and ableism, both of which are as serious as any other social issue that affects the fundamental civil liberties and human rights (and dignity) afforded people. No one would dare call me out for ignorance of the widespread and encouraged discrimination facing those with prevailing developmental disabilities. No one would dare accuse me of having no idea what it’s like to have emotional stability issues or learning disabilities or even a speech impediment, because I’ve livedit.
So…why does it seem okay to accuse me of being so far-removed from the gender-binary-nonconformist visibility and awareness movement? Is it this thing i apparently have called “cis-passing privilege?” That’s nice and all, and I appreciate the constant guilt-trips (joke, I have major guilt issues as-is), but reminding me I can “pass” as a “man” is (to me) the rough equivalent of saying “why don’t you just act like/look like/be a man?”
I know it’s seldom (not never, but seldom) meant that way, but I would neverthink of telling a genderqueer person to “just call yourself trans - it’s much easier to understand.” Because they’re not trans. They’re not trans-anything. If anything, they’re transcendentwith regards to gender (see what I did there?) and attempting to understand their identity in terms of what with which you are already familiar is, while instinctive, ultimately ineffective.
Part of me wants to give up and just accept that it’s okay for people to choose whatever label they want for themselves - provided they’re a fan of labeling themselves, that is. I never have been, with myself or others. It’s also not okay to say people have to label themselves, that they simply must identify as something.
We humans have no obligation to justify either the state or nature of our existence to each other.
No, that does not mean it’s okay to say your gender is “Klingon.” Klingon is a fucking species (not a race - they’re not human) and at that, need I remind you, fictional. It’s also not okay to say you identify as a tree. You don’t. You can’t. The simple fact that you are communicating an assertion of your own sentience effectively nullifies any and all potential for you to be innately part of a completely different kingdom of life.
That, and it’s also insulting to people whose identities are complicated and difficult to describe or explain, but that ought to go without saying.
For the record, I am still very much questioning my own identity. The initial crises are well in the past, but I’m far from feeling comfortable with myself. Please remember this is the case with a significant numberof gender-binary-nonconforming people, and that the best way to be supportive is to not try and “help” us “figure things out” - unless, of course, you have had similar experiences in your own life. Solidarity is always appropriate and welcomed.
*no, “progressivism” is not, strictly speaking, a real word. It’s also not inaccurate, as the grammatically-correct “progressiveness” refers to an abstract quality, not a school of thought.
My heart rate is way too high for the amount of anti-anxiety pills I’m on.
Aren’t they supposed to do…you know, the opposite?
I can’t sleep at all. Nope.
I just want someone to snuggle up next to me so I can hold them close and find comfort in knowing somebody cares and takes the time to understand. I’d love that. I want it again. I’m afraid of losing it.
I swear, if we get six more inches of snow on top of what’s ALREADY HERE and I wind up stuck (physically and socially) in the house, alone, again, and have to cancel any more plans or make any more phone calls or deal with getting my parents on the same page or or
I’m gonna fucking scream. I can’t. I can’t fucking do this anymore. Emotional whiplash. No. No thank you.
I feel like screaming and pulling my hair out and who knows what else. No self-harm, for those idiots who think I’m still actually that weak. I can count ten things within arm’s reach that could seriously harm and possibly kill me (yes, including liquor) and the thought doesn’t even cross my mind. Shut up.
I’m sick of not being allowed to express sadness or depression (not that it’s a choice, obviously) without people automatically assuming I’m going to fucking kill myself. I mean fuck. Do your homework. I did and do all sorts of outreach for this kinda stuff. I’m above that. I quit Ambien, I stopped cigarettes, and can definitely handle things well enough that I don’t need to bleed just to feel alive anymore.
Sorry for the trigger warnings. We have no internet still, so this is a mobile post. On that note, sorry for the weird formatting and inevitable typos. HTC doesn’t seem to know what they’re doing anymore. :(
My weight is getting back to normal, I guess. I’m at 154 now. Turns out my parents’ scale is tared properly so that’s actually probably accurate. 154 is good enough, but I should probably be back to 165 like I was, stably, until quite recently. Whatever. I’m not gonna eat if I’m not hungry. Then I just feel absolutely sick and that’s much much worse!
Oh and I take my anti anxiety meds again, thank goodness. Not that they do much, even if I’m drinking as well, but it’s the thought that counts!
Could also be the minuscule dosage, but I’ve not got a M.D so I’m not gonna challenge anything there.
What the fuck, brain. What the actual fuck.
Why couldn’t you just BREATHE when they pulled you out of your mother? You didn’t wanna leave, I get it, but you had no choice.
when people complain about how accessibility features such as ramps, lifts, highlighting, image descriptions, scaled css, trigger warnings, epilepsy warnings, etc., makes things aesthetically ugly, they are actually revealing how the politics of what we consider “beautiful” have been centered around able-bodied, neurotypical people
"it’s the way the world works, though."
This is quite literally a summary of every conversation I have with one or both of my parents.
"you need to adapt. the brain CAN do that, forming new neurological pathways…"
ok. that shit’s hard. can we maybe at least meet halfway please?
Flashbacks. Racing mind. Terrifying uncertainty. Seemingly impossible justifications.
And of course, mountains of semi-harsh “tough love” advice.
I need to go somewhere where I can think and work on stuff by myself, but I REALLY can’t be alone right now. Not because I’m a “threat” to myself or any dumb teenager shit like that. Because I’m cold and lonely and scared and also cold.
The fiber optic lines won’t be repaired for at least a week. I’d use 4G LTE data if it existed here.