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Niko

Niko

Student
Oct 4, 2018
112
I was curious as to what everybody on this forum felt like their lives are like? I imagine 'depressing' would be a common answer, for example, but then what does that itself feel like to you?

for me my life feels like the gravity got turned up to 11: everything feels heavy, everything's so hard and painful, and even the simplest of events take so much out of me.

like carrying a tennis ball on a massive planet with an intense gravity would feel like carrying a car, that's how my life feels these days. everything used to feel lighter and easier and now it's just impossible.
 
Threads

Threads

Warlock
Jul 13, 2018
724
Imagine having the pressure of boulders constantly on your back. College, employment, finances, dying dad, your own mental illness, teetering on divorce or fixing your marriage, living alone for the first time, really working on yourself and trying to rebuild all the damage and carnage your abuse left in your life.

I'm 28 and I wake up and I feel 60. I drag my ass to the gym everyday, twice a day, and force myself to workout. I drag myself to my classes, and force myself to listen to their lectures. I drag myself to job interviews, and force myself to appear motivated and interested. I drag myself to the doctors office, or to cardio rehab, or to the pulmonologist, or to the physical therapist, or to the therapist with my dad and make sure he is attending and going to each and every single appointment. Handle my dad's law office work, he can't work and he needs his practice. I drag myself to marriage counseling and sit through difficult sessions and work with my wife and counselor. Imagine waking up for the first time with no one, nothing. You're all alone in this 2 bedroom apartment, your skin is crawling because you wake up constantly on pins and needles.

You wake up. You check your phone. 'Wow, I slept over 5 hours today and did not have bad dreams.' You see no one has called you. No one has texted you. No voicemails. Nothing. You make your way to the kitchen and pour a tall glass of water and put on the kettle for tea. Half of the dishes from last night are not done, the garbage needs to be taken out, and you notice you left oven light on. You stand there and just continue to tell yourself.

'How the fuck am I supposed to get through the day.' 'What the fuck am I supposed to do.' 'Why.' You repeat the 'Why.' question to yourself a couple time.

You drink your water, and pour yourself another cup, after you drink that you go to the bathroom. You realize that you haven't turned the heat on in days. Because you sleep in the nude. You go put on a tanktop, boxers, socks, and sweats, pull up a quilt. You sit down in your chair. The chair is not comfortable, you've had it for two years, you need a new chair, you continue to tell yourself this, this week you're going to buy a new chair, you said the same thing three weeks ago. You don't want to go to ABC warehouse or do any sort of furniture shopping. In fact, the thought of social interaction puts a knot in your stomach. Thank God it's Monday, I have nothing to do and all day to do it. You boot your computer up, she turns on, and you check all the regular things. Social media. Email. Discord. School. Law office work.

You debate about not going to the gym, you argue with yourself for an hour or two about it. You debate drinking the beer you have stored. You think about taking a xanax, a perc, some kratom, or buying a bowl of weed from the guy three doors down. You could numb yourself out for the day. But you have this other side of you. 'Threads, just go to the gym.' So you pull yourself out of your chair, make a protein shake, and you drag yourself to the gym. You power walk on the treadmill for 35 minutes at the highest incline, you imagine during this time you're doing something exciting with your life, for that 35 minutes, you put yourself in another universe. You do some weight lifting, you feel good. You wash your hands. You go home.

You walk back home. You feel a cold breeze pierce through your goatskin jacket. The cold triggers your PTSD. You remember smoking cigarettes outside your parents house, when you didn't have a pair of shoes that fit you. You went outside in 20 degree weather in a tee shirt and jeans and smoked. You remember how cold your feet were. You remember believing in the Christian right-wing death cult your parents were apart of. You believed the world was going to end. You believed that the government was going to kill you. You're back in 2012 again. There's nothing to eat in the house. The water is coming from an unfiltered well and is undrinkable. The fridge is empty. Your parents have 6 months worth of no-perishable food in the attic. It's locked. You cook up a microwave dinner. You're still walking home, but you're completely disassociating and just an automaton.

Eventually, you get ahold of yourself. You walk up the steps to your apartment. You come back in. Do the dishes, take the garbage out. Have a cup of tea. It's now 10:10 am. You're anxiety is through the roof. You begin reading your dad's legal docket and go over his cases, you begin drafting legal arguments, making phone calls, and finding out what needs to be filed at the courthouse. Your fridge is stocked. You get on SS, and you start your rounds. You have some documentary or free class on one monitor, and you have some tower defense game on the other. Eventually, you drag yourself to the courthouse, file his paperwork, maybe sit through a trial or two. You drive home. Probably get triggered again. When you get home you'll probably make something out of origami. Maybe read a bit. Maybe watch some anime. All the while you are fighting the crushing feelings of depression, despair, and misery from overcoming you.

Around 830, you'll head to the gym, and do the same process again. You'll wake up tomorrow after 5 hours of sleep and bad dreams, and do the same thing. The only difference is you'll have therapy at 3 pm. 'Fuck, I forgot I had to drop this off at the district court.' You drive over to a district court several miles away. On Wednesday, you're supposed to start this new job. You're anxious about it, because you don't want to fail. The looming thought of failing again and again hang heavy within your mind. You tell yourself. 'I need to develop a better relationship with failure.' You write about these feelings and talk about them with your therapist. You realize you've made progress, but as you've made more and more progress, you run into more and more complex problems.

Class on wednesday is a joke You take Metallurgy and you already know everything. You've already read all sorts of books and seen documentaries. You score 89% on the midterm. You don't really care about the other 11%. In fact, you don't care about what the professor is teaching at all. You play wordscapes on your phone throughout the session. You debate if you want to go to the SIA meeting on Wednesday night. Everyone there really likes you. You decide not to go. You go back home to your empty apartment. Make some tea, have a light snack, go back to the gym.

Thursday rolls around, you have class at 8 am. You wake up at 4. You can't go back to sleep. The nightmares of sexual abuse are eating at you. You wake up thinking about your brother. You miss him. Wonder if he will ever get help. 'Fuck it's 4am, I did not even sleep 5 hours.' You lay in bed for an hour and half trying to sleep. Your thoughts revolve around suicide, your future, and how this bed is too big for just one person. You miss your wife. You realize how fucked your life is. You get up. Drag yourself to the kitchen. Repeat the same process. You drive to school. You get there early. Your professor likes you, he pays you to pick him up coffee. You bring him coffee. You do some welding. Welding is easy. You leave around 4 pm. You head home. 'i want italian food.'

You stop at an Italian restaurant and order some food, by yourself. You finish the food by yourself, and wish you had someone to share it with. You miss your wife. You realize again. I can't have sex or intimate relations with my wife because of my sexual trauma. You pushed everyone away. In a way, you're happy about this, but you're also unhappy. You don't really know how to rationalize these feelings. You fuck around on your computer till 830, you go to the gym.

The weekends your wife comes over. You look forward to her company. you two spend the weekend together. She asks you if you'd like for her to move back in. You tell her that 'We aren't there yet, I need to live on my own a bit. I'm paying my bills and functioning. Sort of.' She nods and agrees. 'Maybe it's not time yet, we'll keep working.' Before you know it, it's sunday night. She's headed home, you don't go to the gym on sunday. You pass out, alone in your bed that is way to big for one person, and feel like shit. 'She would have stayed if I asked her too' you tell yourself.

You eventually pass out and wake up, and you relive monday all over again.
 
Niko

Niko

Student
Oct 4, 2018
112
Imagine having the pressure of boulders constantly on your back. College, employment, finances, dying dad, your own mental illness, teetering on divorce or fixing your marriage, living alone for the first time, really working on yourself and trying to rebuild all the damage and carnage your abuse left in your life.

I'm 28 and I wake up and I feel 60. I drag my ass to the gym everyday, twice a day, and force myself to workout. I drag myself to my classes, and force myself to listen to their lectures. I drag myself to job interviews, and force myself to appear motivated and interested. I drag myself to the doctors office, or to cardio rehab, or to the pulmonologist, or to the physical therapist, or to the therapist with my dad and make sure he is attending and going to each and every single appointment. Handle my dad's law office work, he can't work and he needs his practice. I drag myself to marriage counseling and sit through difficult sessions and work with my wife and counselor. Imagine waking up for the first time with no one, nothing. You're all alone in this 2 bedroom apartment, your skin is crawling because you wake up constantly on pins and needles.

You wake up. You check your phone. 'Wow, I slept over 5 hours today and did not have bad dreams.' You see no one has called you. No one has texted you. No voicemails. Nothing. You make your way to the kitchen and pour a tall glass of water and put on the kettle for tea. Half of the dishes from last night are not done, the garbage needs to be taken out, and you notice you left oven light on. You stand there and just continue to tell yourself.

'How the fuck am I supposed to get through the day.' 'What the fuck am I supposed to do.' 'Why.' You repeat the 'Why.' question to yourself a couple time.

You drink your water, and pour yourself another cup, after you drink that you go to the bathroom. You realize that you haven't turned the heat on in days. Because you sleep in the nude. You go put on a tanktop, boxers, socks, and sweats, pull up a quilt. You sit down in your chair. The chair is not comfortable, you've had it for two years, you need a new chair, you continue to tell yourself this, this week you're going to buy a new chair, you said the same thing three weeks ago. You don't want to go to ABC warehouse or do any sort of furniture shopping. In fact, the thought of social interaction puts a knot in your stomach. Thank God it's Monday, I have nothing to do and all day to do it. You boot your computer up, she turns on, and you check all the regular things. Social media. Email. Discord. School. Law office work.

You debate about not going to the gym, you argue with yourself for an hour or two about it. You debate drinking the beer you have stored. You think about taking a xanax, a perc, some kratom, or buying a bowl of weed from the guy three doors down. You could numb yourself out for the day. But you have this other side of you. 'Threads, just go to the gym.' So you pull yourself out of your chair, make a protein shake, and you drag yourself to the gym. You power walk on the treadmill for 35 minutes at the highest incline, you imagine during this time you're doing something exciting with your life, for that 35 minutes, you put yourself in another universe. You do some weight lifting, you feel good. You wash your hands. You go home.

You walk back home. You feel a cold breeze pierce through your goatskin jacket. The cold triggers your PTSD. You remember smoking cigarettes outside your parents house, when you didn't have a pair of shoes that fit you. You went outside in 20 degree weather in a tee shirt and jeans and smoked. You remember how cold your feet were. You remember believing in the Christian right-wing death cult your parents were apart of. You believed the world was going to end. You believed that the government was going to kill you. You're back in 2012 again. There's nothing to eat in the house. The water is coming from an unfiltered well and is undrinkable. The fridge is empty. Your parents have 6 months worth of no-perishable food in the attic. It's locked. You cook up a microwave dinner. You're still walking home, but you're completely disassociating and just an automaton.

Eventually, you get ahold of yourself. You walk up the steps to your apartment. You come back in. Do the dishes, take the garbage out. Have a cup of tea. It's now 10:10 am. You're anxiety is through the roof. You begin reading your dad's legal docket and go over his cases, you begin drafting legal arguments, making phone calls, and finding out what needs to be filed at the courthouse. Your fridge is stocked. You get on SS, and you start your rounds. You have some documentary or free class on one monitor, and you have some tower defense game on the other. Eventually, you drag yourself to the courthouse, file his paperwork, maybe sit through a trial or two. You drive home. Probably get triggered again. When you get home you'll probably make something out of origami. Maybe read a bit. Maybe watch some anime. All the while you are fighting the crushing feelings of depression, despair, and misery from overcoming you.

Around 830, you'll head to the gym, and do the same process again. You'll wake up tomorrow after 5 hours of sleep and bad dreams, and do the same thing. The only difference is you'll have therapy at 3 pm. 'Fuck, I forgot I had to drop this off at the district court.' You drive over to a district court several miles away. On Wednesday, you're supposed to start this new job. You're anxious about it, because you don't want to fail. The looming thought of failing again and again hang heavy within your mind. You tell yourself. 'I need to develop a better relationship with failure.' You write about these feelings and talk about them with your therapist. You realize you've made progress, but as you've made more and more progress, you run into more and more complex problems.

Class on wednesday is a joke You take Metallurgy and you already know everything. You've already read all sorts of books and seen documentaries. You score 89% on the midterm. You don't really care about the other 11%. In fact, you don't care about what the professor is teaching at all. You play wordscapes on your phone throughout the session. You debate if you want to go to the SIA meeting on Wednesday night. Everyone there really likes you. You decide not to go. You go back home to your empty apartment. Make some tea, have a light snack, go back to the gym.

Thursday rolls around, you have class at 8 am. You wake up at 4. You can't go back to sleep. The nightmares of sexual abuse are eating at you. You wake up thinking about your brother. You miss him. Wonder if he will ever get help. 'Fuck it's 4am, I did not even sleep 5 hours.' You lay in bed for an hour and half trying to sleep. Your thoughts revolve around suicide, your future, and how this bed is too big for just one person. You miss your wife. You realize how fucked your life is. You get up. Drag yourself to the kitchen. Repeat the same process. You drive to school. You get there early. Your professor likes you, he pays you to pick him up coffee. You bring him coffee. You do some welding. Welding is easy. You leave around 4 pm. You head home. 'i want italian food.'

You stop at an Italian restaurant and order some food, by yourself. You finish the food by yourself, and wish you had someone to share it with. You miss your wife. You realize again. I can't have sex or intimate relations with my wife because of my sexual trauma. You pushed everyone away. In a way, you're happy about this, but you're also unhappy. You don't really know how to rationalize these feelings. You fuck around on your computer till 830, you go to the gym.

The weekends your wife comes over. You look forward to her company. you two spend the weekend together. She asks you if you'd like for her to move back in. You tell her that 'We aren't there yet, I need to live on my own a bit. I'm paying my bills and functioning. Sort of.' She nods and agrees. 'Maybe it's not time yet, we'll keep working.' Before you know it, it's sunday night. She's headed home, you don't go to the gym on sunday. You pass out, alone in your bed that is way to big for one person, and feel like shit. 'She would have stayed if I asked her too' you tell yourself.

You eventually pass out and wake up, and you relive monday all over again.

sounds like a blast
 
D

Donewith_

Elementalist
Sep 28, 2018
877
A small boat in the middle of a ocean with only you on it with no compass.. that boat will not break....In short I am 'lost'
This is what it is for me.. not a word less or a word more
 
Weeping Garbage Can

Weeping Garbage Can

ਕਿਰਪਾ ਕਰਕੇ ਮੈਨੂੰ ਭੁੱਲ ਜਾਓ ❤️
Oct 31, 2018
316
I was curious as to what everybody on this forum felt like their lives are like? I imagine 'depressing' would be a common answer, for example, but then what does that itself feel like to you?

for me my life feels like the gravity got turned up to 11: everything feels heavy, everything's so hard and painful, and even the simplest of events take so much out of me.

like carrying a tennis ball on a massive planet with an intense gravity would feel like carrying a car, that's how my life feels these days. everything used to feel lighter and easier and now it's just impossible.
My life straight up feels like a stupid joke. My mind can't remember the past...just some positive memories but also those that really hurt sensitive, meek little me. Frequently, my mind spins and my chest is suffocating and my heart is breaking. During those moments, nothing feels safe. Everything is doomed. My mind is untrustworthy, I detest even the letters of the thoughts I can sense inside. I force myself to always keep quiet, say I'm fine, not eat that lunch, rush through my homework, and observe. Observing everything around me breaks me, the feeling of being a pathetic outsider returns, yet I continue to do so. I remind myself of how lovely I have it, how my suffering is so minsicule and I just need to keep it in. I curse my sensitivity and kindness, how I want to put all those who have been hurt into a safe, peaceful bubble. The instances where I've opened up play on repeat as a warning; the empty platitudes and insensitive replies remind me never to let anyone else know again. I wonder how everyone will feel if I killed myself, suddenly that girl who is always present and kind and listens, is gone. So many things trigger me, even if I experience no abuse. I live my life listening to those so full of assertions and viewpoints and opinions, while I'm just an ugly, dimwitted, empty, weeping garbage can :,) I don't feel safe, whether mentally, physically, or emotionally most of the time, at varying levels. Always, there is this underlying fear of stepping out of line, making a mistake, exposing myself, or acting on ignorance. Even with death, I get fearful. Only sleep is where I get some sense of calmness.

And yes, everything that is produced by me sounds stupid. Even this, but I still wanted to reply anyways :,)
 
littlelungs

littlelungs

Arcanist
Oct 21, 2018
495
It feels like there's someone who constantly has their hands wrapped around my neck -- not enough to kill me, but enough to be seriously uncomfortable, debilitating and highly distractive, and it's just like, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, EITHER LET GO OR PRESS HARDER.
 
T

Throwaway563078

Experienced
Oct 6, 2018
273
Absolute torture. On good days I feel bored. But usually I feel as if I'm carrying so much weight, my body heavy, my mind is at war, headaches, nauseous. I feel as if oxygen is a poisonous gas, every breath is painful. I feel as if I'm suffocating. I feel as if I'm climbing a mountain barefoot with no gear and this mountain never ends. People at the bottom tell me to continue but I see no end to this mountain.
 
D

Deadbeforenov16th

Member
Oct 26, 2018
17
Like all of my character, positivity, hopes and compassion have been scooped out and I've been left a self loathing, pessimistic empty shell that's already broken yet somehow still alive. All smiles and niceties seem fake and plasticated, I feel hated and hate myself more. I feel as though i have the entire world pressing down on my head and the only way that it seems it will lift is through ctb.
.
 
mattwitt

mattwitt

# 978
Jun 28, 2018
2,304
Like this for me...

th
 
Deleted member 3786

Deleted member 3786

cybergopnik
Nov 4, 2018
3
Nothing brings me joy, nothing brings me pain. I'm neither happy nor sad. I'm just aimlessly walking around, doing things to kill time. It's really boring. I have few "friends" just because being around them and learning new things kills time. I have a loving family who cares about me. Maintaining friendships and relations with family is tiring. I really don't have any reason to live and not a reason to die. Feels like I'm in a limbo.
 
Weeping Garbage Can

Weeping Garbage Can

ਕਿਰਪਾ ਕਰਕੇ ਮੈਨੂੰ ਭੁੱਲ ਜਾਓ ❤️
Oct 31, 2018
316
I don't think your post sounds stupid @Weeping Garbage Can, you did a great job of conveying your feelings about your life here and I appreciate that. Also I really enjoy that name 'weeping garbage can'!
Thanks Niko, that's very kind of you to say. I appreciate you responding, so thanks for that! And I'm glad you like the name, I thought it was accurate :D
 
Jen Erik

Jen Erik

-
Oct 12, 2018
637
A pain in my stomach, a knot. Anxious about the inevitable, both that which is within my control and that which is not.

Some times there is overwhelming sadness that fills in the space when I am not feeling so anxious, but eventually that morphs right back into anxiety when I realize the things I am sad about are definites, things that have already occurred in my life or will with no doubt occur.
 
Going Home

Going Home

Specialist
Sep 21, 2018
357
Life is strange, sad, hopeless and I feel somewhat disoriented by some of the things purposely going on around me. I feel like I don't belong in this world anymore.

I hate when someone says something to me and it takes me a couple of seconds to understand what they're saying.

Everyday I feel stupid and alone and certain people make sure I know I'm stupid.
 
Norest4thewicked

Norest4thewicked

Losing it
Nov 4, 2018
271
Life? A fucking awful drag. A day to day mix of worthlessness, insignificance and rejection. Constantly re-enforced by my own self loathing. But I'm told I'm a funny guy, almost charming when I have to go out and socialise. I hide it well. I think a lot of us do. It's all fucked up
 
Deleted member 2141

Deleted member 2141

The angel of choice is enduring.
Aug 30, 2018
5,309
Life is really just draining especially day to day life. With no job and limited income as well as a sad social life (some roommates and a social group but they hardly ever (the rarest of occasions) invite me to stuff or ask to hangout and what not), lost interests in things I once found for, losing the ability to perform my hobby (piano) as well as I wanted to (due to physical changes, anxiety, and what not), and then realizing that I don't really belong.

I simply just barely exist and go through the motions of day to day life; wake up and brush my teeth, get dressed, and just go on this site, maybe youtube, play some single player games and what not. If there is some interesting event like a concert, a ballgame, movie premiere, etc., then I attend that, but with no one to share it with (not that I care at this point in my life), and then go home only to face reality again, knowing how lonely and pointless my life really is. Day by day, I work up the courage (long term) and wait for the right time to just go (holidays or times when things are cheaper) and get my method (must be in the right frame of mind, mood and emotion, as well as courage before I proceed) and just have it at the ready.
 
Midnight

Midnight

Beyond solace
Jun 30, 2018
625
Imagine having the pressure of boulders constantly on your back. College, employment, finances, dying dad, your own mental illness, teetering on divorce or fixing your marriage, living alone for the first time, really working on yourself and trying to rebuild all the damage and carnage your abuse left in your life.

I'm 28 and I wake up and I feel 60. I drag my ass to the gym everyday, twice a day, and force myself to workout. I drag myself to my classes, and force myself to listen to their lectures. I drag myself to job interviews, and force myself to appear motivated and interested. I drag myself to the doctors office, or to cardio rehab, or to the pulmonologist, or to the physical therapist, or to the therapist with my dad and make sure he is attending and going to each and every single appointment. Handle my dad's law office work, he can't work and he needs his practice. I drag myself to marriage counseling and sit through difficult sessions and work with my wife and counselor. Imagine waking up for the first time with no one, nothing. You're all alone in this 2 bedroom apartment, your skin is crawling because you wake up constantly on pins and needles.

You wake up. You check your phone. 'Wow, I slept over 5 hours today and did not have bad dreams.' You see no one has called you. No one has texted you. No voicemails. Nothing. You make your way to the kitchen and pour a tall glass of water and put on the kettle for tea. Half of the dishes from last night are not done, the garbage needs to be taken out, and you notice you left oven light on. You stand there and just continue to tell yourself.

'How the fuck am I supposed to get through the day.' 'What the fuck am I supposed to do.' 'Why.' You repeat the 'Why.' question to yourself a couple time.

You drink your water, and pour yourself another cup, after you drink that you go to the bathroom. You realize that you haven't turned the heat on in days. Because you sleep in the nude. You go put on a tanktop, boxers, socks, and sweats, pull up a quilt. You sit down in your chair. The chair is not comfortable, you've had it for two years, you need a new chair, you continue to tell yourself this, this week you're going to buy a new chair, you said the same thing three weeks ago. You don't want to go to ABC warehouse or do any sort of furniture shopping. In fact, the thought of social interaction puts a knot in your stomach. Thank God it's Monday, I have nothing to do and all day to do it. You boot your computer up, she turns on, and you check all the regular things. Social media. Email. Discord. School. Law office work.

You debate about not going to the gym, you argue with yourself for an hour or two about it. You debate drinking the beer you have stored. You think about taking a xanax, a perc, some kratom, or buying a bowl of weed from the guy three doors down. You could numb yourself out for the day. But you have this other side of you. 'Threads, just go to the gym.' So you pull yourself out of your chair, make a protein shake, and you drag yourself to the gym. You power walk on the treadmill for 35 minutes at the highest incline, you imagine during this time you're doing something exciting with your life, for that 35 minutes, you put yourself in another universe. You do some weight lifting, you feel good. You wash your hands. You go home.

You walk back home. You feel a cold breeze pierce through your goatskin jacket. The cold triggers your PTSD. You remember smoking cigarettes outside your parents house, when you didn't have a pair of shoes that fit you. You went outside in 20 degree weather in a tee shirt and jeans and smoked. You remember how cold your feet were. You remember believing in the Christian right-wing death cult your parents were apart of. You believed the world was going to end. You believed that the government was going to kill you. You're back in 2012 again. There's nothing to eat in the house. The water is coming from an unfiltered well and is undrinkable. The fridge is empty. Your parents have 6 months worth of no-perishable food in the attic. It's locked. You cook up a microwave dinner. You're still walking home, but you're completely disassociating and just an automaton.

Eventually, you get ahold of yourself. You walk up the steps to your apartment. You come back in. Do the dishes, take the garbage out. Have a cup of tea. It's now 10:10 am. You're anxiety is through the roof. You begin reading your dad's legal docket and go over his cases, you begin drafting legal arguments, making phone calls, and finding out what needs to be filed at the courthouse. Your fridge is stocked. You get on SS, and you start your rounds. You have some documentary or free class on one monitor, and you have some tower defense game on the other. Eventually, you drag yourself to the courthouse, file his paperwork, maybe sit through a trial or two. You drive home. Probably get triggered again. When you get home you'll probably make something out of origami. Maybe read a bit. Maybe watch some anime. All the while you are fighting the crushing feelings of depression, despair, and misery from overcoming you.

Around 830, you'll head to the gym, and do the same process again. You'll wake up tomorrow after 5 hours of sleep and bad dreams, and do the same thing. The only difference is you'll have therapy at 3 pm. 'Fuck, I forgot I had to drop this off at the district court.' You drive over to a district court several miles away. On Wednesday, you're supposed to start this new job. You're anxious about it, because you don't want to fail. The looming thought of failing again and again hang heavy within your mind. You tell yourself. 'I need to develop a better relationship with failure.' You write about these feelings and talk about them with your therapist. You realize you've made progress, but as you've made more and more progress, you run into more and more complex problems.

Class on wednesday is a joke You take Metallurgy and you already know everything. You've already read all sorts of books and seen documentaries. You score 89% on the midterm. You don't really care about the other 11%. In fact, you don't care about what the professor is teaching at all. You play wordscapes on your phone throughout the session. You debate if you want to go to the SIA meeting on Wednesday night. Everyone there really likes you. You decide not to go. You go back home to your empty apartment. Make some tea, have a light snack, go back to the gym.

Thursday rolls around, you have class at 8 am. You wake up at 4. You can't go back to sleep. The nightmares of sexual abuse are eating at you. You wake up thinking about your brother. You miss him. Wonder if he will ever get help. 'Fuck it's 4am, I did not even sleep 5 hours.' You lay in bed for an hour and half trying to sleep. Your thoughts revolve around suicide, your future, and how this bed is too big for just one person. You miss your wife. You realize how fucked your life is. You get up. Drag yourself to the kitchen. Repeat the same process. You drive to school. You get there early. Your professor likes you, he pays you to pick him up coffee. You bring him coffee. You do some welding. Welding is easy. You leave around 4 pm. You head home. 'i want italian food.'

You stop at an Italian restaurant and order some food, by yourself. You finish the food by yourself, and wish you had someone to share it with. You miss your wife. You realize again. I can't have sex or intimate relations with my wife because of my sexual trauma. You pushed everyone away. In a way, you're happy about this, but you're also unhappy. You don't really know how to rationalize these feelings. You fuck around on your computer till 830, you go to the gym.

The weekends your wife comes over. You look forward to her company. you two spend the weekend together. She asks you if you'd like for her to move back in. You tell her that 'We aren't there yet, I need to live on my own a bit. I'm paying my bills and functioning. Sort of.' She nods and agrees. 'Maybe it's not time yet, we'll keep working.' Before you know it, it's sunday night. She's headed home, you don't go to the gym on sunday. You pass out, alone in your bed that is way to big for one person, and feel like shit. 'She would have stayed if I asked her too' you tell yourself.

You eventually pass out and wake up, and you relive monday all over again.

That was a good read. Unfortunately it's your actual life and not fiction. Whatever the case take care dude.
 
Morbid Cam

Morbid Cam

Member
Oct 28, 2018
51
To me life is like this club and everyone else is having a good time and having everything go well for them while I'm still outside waiting for even the chance to get in but everytime I try and no matter how hard I try, there is always something there blocking me and it's as if I cant win. Whilst everyone who is already in the club is yelling at me that I just need to try harder to get in yet they didnt have any of the obstacles I have, I'll probably think of a better comparison later I have lots of these
 
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iglooblimp

Another parasite to Earth
Oct 17, 2018
75
It feels like there's a void in your heart. Sometimes you feel it, sometimes you don't. I try not to and distract myself most of the time, but there are times when I feel it... that sense of fatigue and emptiness.