psychedelictrashpanda - Tumblr blog

psychedelictrashpanda · 3 years

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It’s been awhile, weird old blog with unspecified direction. How about more of me me me?

I finally did DMT again, and WOW. It’s been at least a full decade since the last time. I still didn’t quite “break through” enough to “meet the entities” again but mein GOTT was it healing. Speaking of God, we’ll get to that soon... But before smoking the dimitri, I was beginning to sustain a mania in slow motion with dissociatives again. Not to any extreme like I did with PCP long ago (btw, glancing at my Eyehategod poster, I realize that horror/metal fest when I was blasted on PCP the entire time was all the way back in 2013! It seems to much more recent, but the way these drugs interact with memory is very peculiar. or maybe it was the traumatizing effect of it and other things at the time that makes me block out and thus distort the time signature of the memory... I digress). And I don’t have the destructive tendencies I did in the past anyway, so I’ve never been apt to push it as far as I was when I was shooting up 3-meo-pcp and blacking out for days at a time. I mean, I did push it I suppose. For the main George Floyd protests I was loading up on a combination of things. Can’t even remember if that was my sober window between methadone detox and the suboxone I’m on now. But, I was combining bits of weird PCP offshoots with opiate offshoots (4-map iirc) and/or kratom with maybe a drop of benzo... straddling the line between going overboard and a “party dose” for lack of a better descriptor; between recreation and desperation. In retrospect, I was summoning the courage to act like my old self used to in these sorts of situations. That is, giving it my all, being novel about it, idk, summoning the spirit of Dr Gonzo I suppose (who, after reading his two books, was more slimey of a jerk than he’s presented in Hunter’s stories. well, I need to finish the Cockroach People book, he started getting into his attraction to underage girls as a young 20-something man himself and ugh, gross). My true wild & adventurous spirit has been hampered, weighed down with anxiety and depression and all manner of undiagnosed mental illness. Who knows if it’s more the drugs or the environmental factors that trigger drug use, but the spirit is tortured like Griffith in the torture dungeon, the heart is wrapped in a black grime guarded by the Beast of Darkness, the will is subordinated to authoritarian capitalist hegemony...

Where was I? Oh so I started suboxone for the second time in my life innnn... February I want to say. Last time I did it I was able to detox myself simply buying subs off the street, but I did it too quick. That’s been one problem, every time I detox rapidly it’s too harsh a push back into reality and I succumb to relapse less then a year into sobriety. The reason reality is harsh is the same reason my stance on anti depressants has been further cemented. I’ve articulated it better lately... Basically I believe it’s a weird solution to depression to force your chemical makeup into the right position to function properly in the same environment that caused it in the first place. “It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” One of my conversations with a young college friend really illuminated why many don’t even consider this position. She was insistent there’s no cause of depression, you’re just born with a fucked up mind. Now sure, hereditary disposition is a thing, as a drug addicted child of an addict I should know. But for example she pointed to another friend with hard depression and was like “his life seems fine what explanation could there be?” But I put forth maybe his childhood of having to closet his homosexuality in a hard conservative family that had the possibility of disowning him if they knew about it contributed to that “natural chemical imbalance,” as it’s implied. YES, some people NEED it. But for the most part, it really seems to me to be what I’m gonna call the thyroid phenomenon. That is to say, a medical explanation for a small fraction of severely affected patients is used as a broad brush by the public to diagnose themselves. Forewarning: I am not fat shaming here, forgive the example. Dietary practices are a personal thing so my feelings are stronger as well. Anyway, it seems to me as soon as this thyroid malfunction became a hard biological explanation for obesity beyond the psychological, suddenly everyone was a candidate. It’s fine to think “maybe I have it” but when a growing and significant portion of the obese crowd started screaming they all had thyroid problems and can’t help themselves, when a teensy percentage actually do... well it sort of touches on the “addiction as a disease” narrative that’s never sat well with me. Addicts use the disease reasoning to skirt personal responsibility. I'm not denying it is a disease, but I believe calling it as such in the public discourse isn’t terribly constructive. (Okay, you’re seeing an opinion change in real time here... I changed my mind.) I was vehemently against the narrative, but I need to readjust to simply make people WARY of the narrative. As an addict, I could easily see myself using the excuse of it being a disease as a fatalist function; that is to say giving in, relinquishing personal control over my fate. Hereditary disposition, Rat Park, addiction as a disease... there’s also a severe lack of control it all conjures. Paradoxically, drugs can used to meticulously control your state of mind. I can’t control my desire to control myself?

God where was I going with this... Oh! God! May as well mention I’ve been warming up more and more to the spirit of monotheism beyond it’s structural and institutional dimensions. I could get deep into my recent past of not believing in the idea of a spirit, soul, etc. How the pendulum of my ideology swings between cold rationalism and loose spirituality, especially as I go through phases of rebellion against perceived oppressors. Growing up in a red state with a lot of Christian ideals, society around me was always telling me everything I seemed to like was the work of Satan. Naturally, I started reading into Satanism. I never self identified with occult-esque belief structures, except maybe chaos magick because it’s whole idea is to merge whatever practices work into something of your own, but I did staunchly identify as anti christian. Not a hard thing to do when you’re already a metal head, which definitely fueled the trajectory. Not to mention metal helped goad me into DXM use (thanks Velvet Cacoon ya bunch of goons), the first real psychedelic journeys I had. Because I never gave real consideration to myself having depression, I moulded my personal ideology around the symptoms it causes. Which is why for awhile after coming to terms with depression as a problem I probably have, I was only able to identify it in retrospect. I never felt it in real time because it was so old-coat to me, I adapted to it like an addict adapts to their drug of choice and ti becomes their world. So I would decide to skip social events, let my room get messy, watch only old comfort shows, etc... but only AFTER emerging from that state was I able to immediately look back and think “wait... I was doing all those things because I was depressed.” In the moment, it’s rationalized as “I don’t want to see these people for these reasons” or “I want to watch spongebob because it’s fun and an old favorite.” Rationalization, the concept of the west, serves as a detriment to the individual in a number of manners. This is one. I was a MASTER at rationalizing away my drug use. Statistically, more people die from this this and that, why be worried that I’m on this drug instead? Statistics quelled the perceived danger. It was also a formative tool in my skills of justification. I always felt I had to justify every action I took, but that’s getting back into family matters...

But why not bring that up? it’s a sore spot. I feel like the tables have flipped from my dad always saying “you all just think I’m an asshole!” to me thinking I’m the asshole. It’s too much to get into but I’ll touch on a couple important things... I’ve learned a major source of my anxiety is not being able to draw the boundaries between business and family and myself, because they’re not properly defined. When I’m told by my bossfather after explaining the distress I feel simply thinking about the family company, and he goes typically all-or-nothing when I touch on crucial issue and says “if you want out just tell me you want out”, I can’t separate between whether he’s saying it as a father or as a boss in the moment. He would say, “of course I just mean the company”, but where does company end and family begin? It’s also an intense pressure, maybe shame, simply typing this and thinking in the back of my head about someone who might read and think “what a spoiled brat, has a family company and blah blah.” But who put all that in my head? He says he’s changed from the days of putting immense pressure on me with the sort of sentiments that cause that shit in my head like always telling me how great I have it and all the opportunities, shit, I’m feeling it right now, the frustration and I can’t even identify these emotions. At least I am aware of them, that’s a huge milestone for me. But the only thing that’s changed is he sees me as a the broken mother fucker I am and treats me as such. Sometimes it’s nice, and sincere sympathy, other times his frustration with having to check his language all the time is palpable so it does no good to do so. The immense pressure, the intense urgency, the confusing complexity, all those market pressures haven’t changed. This is evident when we were driving somewhere and I suggested not worrying about the fastest route on the map because one minute isn’t a big deal and he insisted that one minute IS a big deal. Sweating one fucking minute indicates a mountain of reputational pressure. In a way, that one minute is putting business ahead of family, but I feel harsh saying it because as he’s pounded into my head the business is what allows the family to survive. Not to mention why put the crack head of the family above that one minute (not literal crack, but it was obvious as soon as he saw I was “fucking around” on ketamine he decided to not take me as seriously) Still, I’ve made my decision that survival reasoning is fucking bullshit already. He’s the one that wants a mansion and wants enough mailbox money for us not to have to worry ever again, so he’s the one deliberately creating the pressure. Maybe he hasn’t considered how hardened he’s become to those feelings after a lifetime in the street and in prison. I really feel for mom. She’s okay now, but her spirit... It’s part of the reason I can’t relax myself at home. He has always painted her as dead weight in the past, never getting a job, sitting watching TV, but he’s unable to connect the dots psychologically because we’re all layman that part of the reason she’s like that is because her actions have been demonized already so who the fuck she got to prove herself to? Same reason I fell into relapse sometimes. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t sort of deal. The damned if I don’t being the reputation of yourself you have to live with after getting sober. He says “don’t worry about it” but I couldn’t accept that because the reason he doesn’t trust me (never mind respect, that’s even further away) is informed by my past. I can’t complain that he never allowed me to contribute to a crucial decision like choosing the building for the dispensary, talking about whether we want a certain investor or not, etc, is because that’s not something to entrust to a druggie. I’ve always felt he let me play make-believe CEO and gave me an allowance for it, while telling me otherwise. He’d say “this is all for you” but he’s making the decisions that truly move mountains and then putting it on us. Which is why I have a hard time saying “I want out”, he can be a baby about things just as much as I am, and I fear he’d let his entrepreneurial drive be affected by my departure. Sigh, this is already getting to be a headache to think about... He’s tired. I’m tired.

There was also something I wanted to say regarding the role social constructs play in all this, but it’s getting long enough already. Suffice to say I’ve been getting into psychoanalysis lately and it’s scratching the right itch for knowledge and wisdom. I can see why Zizek is enamored with Lacan, and why it’s so important to mix it with Marxism. And not to toot my own horn, but what the hell... There are a lot of lofty ideas I’ve been coming across that are already parallel to ideas I’ve developed through my own life experience, and it makes me think I’m meant for this sort of stuff. If I’m lucky in my pursuits (not to put too much weight on the luck aspect), I’ll be a journalist of some sort. Articles, video essays, whatever. Need to rein in my indecisiveness and dispel FOMO tho.

Back to DMT. But not really. Earlier in the summer I got some straight Ketamine and it was also immensely healing. But it has a great abuse potential, especially for me, so it’s harder to “hang up the phone” after I get the message as TmK would say. It made me feel again, and start to understand what love is. Partly because it conjured all these lost feels I had for Kat. She’s great people though, I think I’d just stress her out too much. Idk. Whatever. My love life is a total mess. Anyway after I ran out I wanted more of course and stumbled on some DCK, a somewhat rare ketamine offshoot. Coupled with my increasing propensity to trip acid more than once a week, they started building on each other. I was happier and happier at home, but at work/fam was getting more and more distressed about my place in that whole show. In his show. Simply thinking about the company, especially after having read that article about procrastination and how much it resonated with me, caused me unnecessary levels of distress. Normally as quickly as I can feel that, my mind will tuck it away and bottle it up somewhere so I can go about my day. The problem with drugs is they cause you to act instead. So he was doing the usual “it’s so easy! you’ll have it made!” and I interrupted with this torrent of shit I’ve been holding back forever, and he would not yield on his “you didn’t let me finish...” Incidentally, has he really never picked up on every time I interrupt I already know what he’s talking about? I said as much, something like “it’s not the labor” and he keeps saying “no you’re not listening” as though a frivolous detail changed the main thrust of the fact he’s always trying to make it easier for me. I wish he could simply let me go off and have the strength to take it a little less seriously, but considering how often I take things personally I shouldn’t be surprised he does to. On top of this, his brother/my uncle was in the hospital for some serious shit. But another reason I picked this time is because I only feel safe even confronting him when non-involved parties are around. He doesn’t care that I don’t feel safe confronting him though, he says “don’t worry about me” so maybe I shouldn’t. I feel like such an asshole about it, but that feeling is conjured by the ideological structure he helped to create. Where does my shame end with him being the causation and start with my personal ideology? How much can a person create their own ideology, truly? It’s about as small a window as free will, I imagine.

SO after feeling awful for going off after having all this stuff build up in my mind, I felt awful and went home to drug up some more. Again, not recklessly to the extent I used to be. But I did a fat line of DCK while on a couple hits of LSD and a smidgen of Zolpidem (a wholly underrated substance). Everything was getting to me all at once. A perfect storm of my problems. All the while another doubt caused by ideology from without (society and family both) was making me think it’s all the drugs. But the developments I’ve made are huge strides, I’ve matured so much from it all. And I realized every time I do this, those developments are wiped clean because the validity of them is rendered null due to both the general social stigma of drugs and my history with them. And maybe that’s a major trigger fo rmy relapse in the past. I’m not suppose to be on drugs, but I dabble, have incredible experiences and make strides of maturity, but because it’s drugs the exact opposite effect is percieved from the outside; the experiences are simple chemical euphoria, the strides of maturity are false delusions. It triggers a sharp roll back down hill. I wish someone respected me for who I am, I feel so alone sometimes.

Drugs as an umbrella term, drugs as a vice for the worst dregs of society. There are so many problems in our world regarding drugs. I could write a book. But how much I’ve written here touches on another pressure I feel. IS it simply him again? When he asks “you’re gonna be gone in a few days right?” is that what’s making me feel like this is a waste of time? I’ve got to get out of here. It’s so hard though. I simply have to be strong. The strength is in me to take the massive cut to pay and benefits when I move. Maybe I’ll get a portion of my strugglers card back and shit heads like Blasey Shomas can’t simply say “why don’t you take care of yourself instead of daddy taking are of you?” anymore. Part of me wants to say he says that because he’s driven by his own emotions and not smart enough to directly debate my claims, his insults should hold no weight. Another part of me is truly trying to be... I don’t know a proper term for it without sounding egotistical, but “enlightened”? This is why monotheism is sounding more interesting to me. Jesus’ position about those dregs of society. I’ve always tried to be a trusting person, understanding of people’s struggles, the ideologies they function under that make them lash out or otherwise act the way they do, etc. I even changed my wording there from “I’ve always been” to “I’ve always tried to be.” Not so much for my usual reasons of dodging a committing claim (which I’m working on -- instead of “I think ___” just say what I believe to give the claim more sense of authority so as to be taken more seriously), but trying to be more humble. And not to think lowly and use myself as a punching bag like I used to... ugh, whatever. This post is messy enough.

So that night after having done DCK every day for a couple weeks and tripping every other night on acid, I was at my wits end on what to do, where to go next, everything. The outside world is crumbling, the inside world is lost. I finally whipped out that DMT I’ve had for a long while, something inside told me it was time. Oh duh it was the wits end part, I had no other chemical recourse. I sat in my bed with a foil sculpture loosely resembling a pipe, repeated to myself “it’s okay, just let it happen to you, it will be okay.” A part of me even had a small fear based on those rare reports of those interdimensional beings mentally raping some people, but I don’t know what to make of those experiences, seem like flukes. I took my three deep hits and set the pipe aside as soon as the rusb began and laid back. It wasn’t enough to break through, so I need to get a proper pipe, but it was enough for a “being” (which I am convinced is a part of your mind, not from another dimension or otherwise external source) to appear before me. At least I think. Whatever it was slowly came closer, reassuring me that I’d be okay. The most profound part was an overwhelming sense of all these puzzle pieces suddenly falling perfectly into place where they should be. As though the answers to all my struggles obvious and within me the whole time. For example as soon as I came back I adjusted my posture, as that’s something that I’ve been wanting to work on, and because I was reminded of that just now I adjusted my posture in my seat while writing this. I felt an overwhelming sense of forgiveness toward myself, I think. Amazingly, the inebriation I felt before the trip was largely dissolved, as though the stuff I was on somehow all lost it’s potency. The distresses melted away. At least, the power behind them was nulled. I’m still facing the same problems, but there’s a zen(?) quality to my thinking when they come up in my mind. No longer will a pin drop trigger everything I’m feeling all at once. When I came-to completely, I started BAWLING. In being overwhelmingly consoled by the trip, I became inconsolable. Tears of joy. Tears of healing. And that was the main takeaway. The loudest words of the experience were “Now the healing can truly begin.” At the same time, now the real work also begins.

Balance is key

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psychedelictrashpanda · 4 years

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aye wanna quicky

I wish I could focus on a large project. But I never know what my mood will be tomorrow, as my life is so unstable and chaotic. I enjoy chaos in many regards though; can I construct an ordered pattern of my life with spaces for chaos to flourish? Iunno.... I just want to do a larger project and feel good and confident about it, instead of like I always am: never knowing what tomorrow brings, never knowing what part of my past is useful in my present, both lost in and trapped by circumstance.

I posted a little animation today cause I’m down to 18mg methadone. but here I am flirting with benzos because I’m detoxing slightly too fast. that’s okay though, they’re so cheap, plentiful, and not my drug of choice for recreation anyway. I always thought to myself I could maintain an opiate addiction if I really wanted (still do think that, if I could ever find a healthy work environment it would not be a hard thing to do at all!), now I’m thinking I could do that with a benzo. Critical difference being medical application balanced with recreational temptation. Opiates are always tempting... well less so these days since my last deliberate relapse... but anyway benzos are purely a medicinal thing. The only time I enjoy a larger dose is in a particular social setting, whereas I can always enjoy a heavy opiate. The question is, if I start a near daily habit of benzo use roughly 10 weeks away from being done with opiates, how hard would the benzo detox after that be? And is it worth being infinitely more functional? I can’t sit here, too much pressure that I’m just “sitting here”, and I can’t work, because I can’t with family period. I’m so fucked. I’m so fucked. I can’t even read a book, because why start? What’s gonna happen tomorrow? What would I even apply the book smarts to if I can’t escape my current pattern of running from the family business and then running from the pressure and stress of not working for the family business god CAHNGE THE SUBJECT

I dunno. In that post I said that I wished me learning at home carried the same weight as if I were enrolled in school, and I could self medicate without being stigmatized instead of going into debt seeing doctors. I said I wished american institutions and the societal implications they carry of being "the only legit way" would just rot already. But thinking about it, it’s really only my dad that’s pounded that into me, pushing out the independence that used to be there. Part of this negation of the negation? From idealistic youth, to the “hard life facts” materialism, back to the idealism to synthesize with the realism? whatever.

My friend’s supposed girlfriend, who came onto me and made me throat fuck her while my friend was passed out in the other room, seems to have ghosted me. She’s kinda cool, we we suppose to meet up in this city not far from me. I was really excited for it, an adventure of any sort that I could use to reflect back to my older self. Had drugs in mind, was gonna take my old school hot rod Camaro (which I still need to name), was gonna get a DJ light that pulsates colors to the music like old times... But maybe she had a guilt trip. Did I feel guilty? Hell no. That friend I mentioned, while in some regards an old school friend who I do generally look out, in other regards there’s a gulf of respect I don’t have for how incredibly bigoted he is. It’s weird too, having grown up with him, I can see that it’s all negative energy from being bullied all his life channeled into bigotry and prejudice. But he’s too old for that. So I fucked his girlfriend. Because I’m not too old for that.

eh maybe something will happen this weekend with someone else. some rando girl just friended me that seems cute, who knows. I always was a bit of a romantic, and v-day was typically an excuse for me to make a move. nah, it’s just more stress I don’t need to think about; how fucking utterly alone I am in all this.

#benzos #methadone #thots #institutionalized #art #fuzzylumpkins #bernardsandles #jamacanmecraazzee

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psychedelictrashpanda · 4 years

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spiraling pendulums

alright I figured it out -- articulated the problem. I’m always told “you can get this company to run itself and make enough money” but never understood why he never tried to get the company to run itself for himself (well, partly because of hardcore trust issues) This basically translates to me being able to live off of other’s labor (of someone else running the company I guess?) instead of his labor (of him running the company). and I can’t live off my own labor if I’m laboring for him. lol what a wild contradiction

I was plunged into insanity. comparing: the labor on the grow is all focus on production of commodity and sold in high quantity to distributors in the market. the distributor side of things is all bureaucratic shady conniving bullshit from the government to us and from us to the psychology of the general consumer. I’m already so over it. the more I think about it the worse it gets. [and FUCK man, I want to work on the grow but rereading this I realize all that focus on production is all the more pressure by him AND time spent around him with the potential for arguments at the grow... maybe we can work something out iunno..] I was thinking of the question that keeps coming to my mind of “am I violating my core principles” in this gross attempt of a dance at capital accumulation. part of me values the very idea of not having values and core principles though -- aha! but if I start an endeavor with that tabula rasa mindset and adjust myself to the business mindset needed for success, that act in itself is violating the anti-value chaos by placing value and structure in very real places: the places that would violate what would be my ideal character form. you know, I’ll sort of float between “free spirited rebel” and “but if I must have principles they will be these, which are functionally the exact opposite of what’s needed in an individual for the success of a private enterprise.” fuck me, right?

but I already tried working at the grow under him. I dunno. maybe after he notices I’ll trash this “opportunity” (at mental derangement) as a result of our inability to get along, he’ll let up just a bit. I mean I know I’m stuck with this “druggie who may fall out at any chance they get to do so and buckle under the pressure” (I hesitated to type pressure cause I heard his voice “you don’t know pressure!” I’m so UNCONSCIOUSLY WHIPPED) but maybe, hah, no, maybe not, maybe I need to fucking leave. get money. get out. extended vacation in the summer to tolerate inevitable further extended stay in oklahoma afterwards. the cancer will be the factor of course. god, if I wasn’t allowed to be upset at him because of the work he does or whatever reason before...

alright how about some happy times? a little female attention from a stranger can go a long way for a mans confidence. especially if that female just decided to start dating your friend a couple weeks beforehand. I used to “steal” my friends girlfriends back in the day after I dropped my extra weight in high school, so this made me feel young again. I was only slightly more mature with my decisions. no intercourse, but fooling around is fine, I never initiated anything, she is the instigator and aggressor. and yes, I have a lack of respect for this particular friend due to his racism and hardcore prejudice, which I can tell is energy misplaced. or maybe he truly does have fascist convictions and is just a coward when confronted about it, who knows about anything these days. I do know I”m feeling pretty gottamnmned guddd

#capitalism #business #potatoes #labor #family #badfriend #thots

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psychedelictrashpanda · 4 years

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what’s your copy pasta policy here

just gonna leave one of my early morning depression acid-fueled rantings so maybe I can read back on it with a clear head and be like “damn depression a bitch all this aint that big a deal.” this wassss jan 17th?

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we’re fundamentaly at odds

he has to grow the companyt o meet his grandiose lifestyle he doesn’t even enjoy

I just want a damn single shop for a minimal lifestyle and income

think about how he treats bob and then turns around and treats us

if he showed his famiyl an ounce of the patient, reverence and respect he shows for bob

ugh

maybe he expects to get treated the way he treats bob, and maybe he expects me to treat others the way he treats me in that way? he bows down and worships bob, giving him oh so much patience because he gave us material help, so dad should be treated like a god too for giving us material help?

he can’t fool me with that bullshit “ youll never make it at a real job” shit anymore, he never even paid me as much as scumbag erin, fuck I never even broke $20, but I coul damn sure bounce around contruction jobs like any of those other jerks. and yeah, how the FUCK is it suppose to make me feel when he tells me all his employees are such garbage but I’m not even up to their wage standards lmao

he’s putting mom on us by giving her everything she can’t afford

if’s unfair to all of us how far he chooses to stretch us thin and stack the plate high if we’re also expected to work for him which also means manage his affairs because the function of the son seems to be all sorts of implicated obligations. god damn social rules are heavy.

if we reduced our possessions, including private proeprty, and honed in on one profession, maybe we’d all unwind a bit

sell the company at the one year mark

we talked about that

start the countdown

to methadone and dispensary freedom

freedom from both dispensaries

lol go figure two drug dispensaries are holding me back all the same as me dispensing the drug myself, just less dangerous! /cat sarcasm. been watching red dwarf mate. which reminds me of when lister mentioned “I could have had the company job and a parking spot and become a class traitor but I CHOSE not to”

what do my principles mean to me?

would changing the fundamentals of who I am to keep running in the rat race be considered a rebellion of sorts or am I bullshitting myself

I can’t judge people based on the value of their production for the rest of my life like I’ve been judged all mine

I can’t keep justifying shit like surveillance because muh propertuh

which would I regret more, turning this away or turning away the opportunity to turn it away earlier?

it is still true when I left everything I fought to get done suddenly finally got done, but not by my decree, but by his own judgement when he saw himself because turns out JUST AS HE ACCUSES ME OF ALWAS ARGUING EVERY POINT BACK TO HIM

EVERY POINT I HAVE ABOUT BUSINESS IS ARGUED BACK AT ME AND DOUBTED.

>> when we were in the middle of the price battle when I wanted it lowered is when I exploded about the social media. the price is now lowered, but surely not by my decree.

…..if bob wasn’t in the picture, would my dads standards have been the same?

or is it all my reputation of being a druggie piece of shit not worthy of life because I choose to fucking “get drunk” by my own means so I’m looked upon as an evil sack of shit bringing darkness into everyones fucking life by bringing a few FUCKING HOURS of light into mine I’m FUCKING TRAPPED.

we cant do everything

focus on teh grow

this stretching us so fucking thin occupies way too much of my mind

all I wanted was tuition/worry free education

I take some acid, all this shit that would normally just bother me on a subconscious level bubbles up tot he surface, and it’s so fucking much to deal with that my “wipe the drive” type solution always falls to total uprooting

kats cousin beats up her grandma, she has to call in, but that reason is none of our business, so she gives an excuse instead (surely dad’s response would be “well anyone with half a brain would say “family emergency” as though it would truly make a difference as to their value as an employee in his eyes). consequently, the next excuse she gives she is fired, which could mean the next time, out of her control, some crazy family shit goes down

andrew is in the same spot

I can’t be the one reponsible for the fate of these people’s lives. or at least part responsible, I’m no fooling myself with that “volunteerism” libertarian bullshit as though we’re all in total control of our destinies and it’s not all a cooperative enveavor with a bunch of veneer of “individualism”

…I’m reading over my blog before I post this here. Noted my reputation as being “the bosses son” to employees or “the son of a business owner” to friends, does my dad similarly feel trapped in “father of useless employee” and “father of son that doesn’t want “OH GOD NO why the FUCK would I loop back around to the whole reason I stop myself from auitting in the first place? I always tell him and me I can’t quit because then I’ll be known as the son that can’t work with his dad… but looking at his turnover rate with partners and employees, would that be assumed before the assumption he drove me off instead? afterall, I think I was always the lowest paid plumber at progressive. and when I cut my hours at the dispensary, they cut my pay. message heard. wouldn’t matter, that guilt would hang with me all the goddamn same.

capitalism turns all that’s solid into dust or something right? exhibit A: never being able to take root in my life. not when I was a kid, not now as an adult

if we sell our weed to the right dispensary, we wont be able to keep up with demand. otherwise, we have to work to even be that dispensary, keeping our weed in the dark in the meantime

(next day, more sober)

listen, the evidence of the weight of the expectations on me that everyone denies is that the longer the gap between conversation, the less he can hold back asking about everything that I am assured I shouldn’t be worrying about, in the typical condescending demeaning fashion he is unconscious of.

I’m planning things. it feels good. lemme finish my irl journal entry

#stream of conscience #fear and loathing #acidfrenzy #drug ramblings #scratchpad #notetoself #wildncrazykids #devilsharvest #systemshock

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psychedelictrashpanda · 4 years

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get off my high horsey

[ Well this is nice. When I have my VPN on, the Tumblr dashboard wont load the layout (CSS problem or something? I dunno my web coding knowledge is dated), only the text. Minor inconvenience I suppose, but I typed out this blog the other day with intention of posting. A sappy feels one, but who the fuck reads this anyone? Maybe some post-humous interest will come of it, and I’ll finally be slightly more understood in death than I ever was in life lol ] So the first time I mentioned the words "suicidal depression" out loud, the response I get is "Well you need to seriously get some professional fucking help then!!" Albeit, this was during an argument. The first time I mentioned the words "almost had an anxiety attack" out loud, the response I get is "eh". Had I pressed either of my family members on their response, maybe they would have back peddled and considered a bit of empathy, or double down on what I already suspect is the feeling that I'm crying wolf anytime I bring up my mental health. The issues that caused my anxiety weren't a big deal; “we just asked you to do some stuff you couldn't say no to without looking like an asshole (because we think you have nothing better to do), so you couldn't POSSIBLY have felt the type of anxiety I feel!” Just like my other family member would say something like "you think you're depressed?!?" It's like the oppression olympics except with mental health. I started saying to myself "this is why I've never really tried to talk about my emotions or how I feel." But is that truly fair? It is, as mentioned, the first time I've brought either of those specific phrases up, and under peculiar circumstance. Would there really ever be a normal circumstance though, outside therapy? Speaking of, am I the only one that thinks it's extremely bizarre in order to feel okay about ourselves and all the people we interact with on a daily basis that make us feel otherwise, a professional career is manifested and therapy becomes a cornerstone of a functional society? Instead of say, people therapizing each other by learning some basic fucking emotional intelligence. Nevermind we don't get taught anything close to it in school, I'm saying right now, start a movement for two things: develop emotional intelligence, and tolerate other’s emotional ignorance. On the latter; I'm in my thirties now and only a few years ago made a huge turn in my moral convictions and today am a full commie, yet there are a LOT of areas I've yet to unlearn because they lie dormant. When they are brought to the surface and I say something stupid or quasi-bigoted I learned long ago but wasn't quick enough with my foresight to stop from coming out my mouth, the hostility toward the mistake I made gives me anxiety and hinders my learning process to find out why it was a mistake. Perhaps this is a good area for a tiny dose of stoicism. You can't help people were indoctrinated by american culture to stereotype, so calmly explain why it might hurt these people their stereotyping instead of acting upset and aggressive, which only asks for conflict. So, consequently, as always, I’m stuck in the middle. One side of the people I interact with gets hard to be around because they exhibit all the behavior patterns I am trying to unlearn and get away from. On the other side are the people who know better, but are far too beyond me into purity politics to have the patience or any semblance of respect for honest questions I’m trying to learn through socialization, my preferred method of learning. It’s falling out of favor in this hyper partisan environment. People evolve, you can either help them along or condemn them for not being far enough along that they align with all the morals you’ve evolved to or had the fortune to be raised with.

#mental health #tolerance #loo #teashades #odo #bobsledding

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psychedelictrashpanda · 4 years

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the hole is deeper than ever, maybe I’ll purchase a ladder?

Well, pops has cancer. I am now more trapped in my own life than I’ve ever been. And I can’t even think about my own life without some nagging voice from the Big Other saying “you’re SELFISH for not dropping everything to dedicate your life to the rest of your cancer-striken dad’s life!” Is that the correct use of Big Other, the unwritten rules of our social order or whatever? Anyway before the situation was this: Work for my dad to eventually “take over the company”, make better money than I could anywhere else in the process, but be in complete fucking misery under the boss/father child/employee dichotomy. Or, don’t work for my dad and have my extended family and all friends of the family see me as some selfish spoiled child that turns down opportunities people would kill for. This moral framework has been pounded into my head by all boomers alike anyway, you know, the classic american dream drivel. God, I can’t even start on that topic... Side note: One of the dumbest parts is how I’m always told “you could get this company to run itself!” and all I can think is “okay so why TF have we never tried to even step in that direction?” I guess it’s because it’s always just a possibility in the distant future, not a guarantee, but also because typically those who have the money can’t have even the most trivial element of management out of their control. I can’t continue on “possibilities of a bright future” if I can hardly slog through living the present. So now, as I’m closer than ever to finally cutting the goddamn cord and moving the fuck away before I put myself on a goddamn suicide watch list, my dad comes down with cancer. Yeah, how’s it going to look when I move hundreds of miles away right after a cancer diagnosis? This quote I recently came across on social media is burned into my psyche now, someone said: “It does far more for your mental health to quit your toxic work environment than it does to go to therapy in order to deal with that environment.” I don’t know. I’m lost. I’m tired. Is any of it worth it?

I can’t take the guilt trips anymore. They’re too heavy. It’s not right to go through this psychological fuckery, and yet have to feel like an undeserving piece of shit anytime I decide not to take that sort of guilt trip from people or think for myself instead of others. And the best part is my mind is my own worst enemy these days, because as soon as I typed that sentence I heard all the voices in my head saying “WHAT DO YOU MEAN ALL YOU DO IS THINK FOR YOUSELF YOU FUCKING JUNKIE SHUT-IN.” If I’m not bending over backwards to please others then I’m looked at like a total asshole, and I can’t take it. Because I don’t have anyone close enough to me, it hurts to repel even strangers. The guilt trips against me my whole life have been so heavy it’s completely automated into my subconscious to just do it to myself now, resulting in executive paralysis that fuels a hedonism driven idleness, which is what paints the picture to make it look like I’m “always thinking for myself anyway” when really I’m doing my absolute hardest not to think at all, because my own thoughts are torture.

All I want is my creativity back.

And to go back to school.

The saddest part is I used to be this big “who cares what other people think” type person with a ton of confidence. The principles my former self used to live by in order to make life worth living have been shattered. I don’t know who I am anymore.

#cancer #fuckcancer #entreprenuership #leggo my eggo #depression

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psychedelictrashpanda · 4 years

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stuck in the middle with me

In addition to always feeling trapped, I also get to feel like I’m always stuck at a crossroads I can’t ever make progress in deciding which direction to take. With myself of course, is it fair to the other person for me to be dating in such a poor mental state? Wearing loneliness like an old familiar jacket, it just stinks sometimes, really need to wash out that old perspective and embrace solitary living -- I used to be so good at it!

Right now I could start up this t-shirt thing. Get a screen printing set up and actually follow through on the whole idea I started years ago but abandon because heat-press tshirts were low quality trash I didn’t want to deal with. In addition to or instead of, I can also go the mushroom route. Practice growing all sorts to sell to chefs and such, maybe in the future land an opportunity to grow cubes as a legal profession.

Both of those are entirely possible and would help me immensely. But it implies two things: a definite move away from the company, which is gonna be another obligatory rift to deal with, and staying in Oklahoma, which at least would please the family and balance out that rift? Assuming I explain the other option is getting the fuck out.

I’m still considering the vandwelling idea I’m always building on that I’ve recently categorized as a dream because it seems simultaneously so easy and close to reality but far away and something I’ll never have the courage to go through with. It’s been in my head, well really since I was a child, but in planning mode for years now before it became a trendy scene. Now Joseph gets to leave for months at a time fulfilling the dream I had and it’s all fine and okay for him because he’s volunteering when he does it I guess.

I have to pretend I’m typing so my coworker, who is my old friend from childhood that I should be more happy to talk with since I don’t see and work with often, will stop talking to me and leave me alone. Should I feel guilty? After seeing so much Larry David, to be honest, heh, I’m starting to feel less bad about the things I want. Oh you know what that reminds me -- this thing with benzos I’m going through relates. Because I’m either riddled with anxiety and apologetic and let people walk all over me and am self deprecating and blahblah a lot of the usual depression type symptoms I suppose, or I take a medicinal dose of a benzo and I don’t take any shit from anyone. I think it depends on the benzo tbh and I’m about to try a new grey market one anyway so maybe that will work in just the right medicinal way that I need it to. Only some make me sort of cranky, and valium seems to be one I guess, but it’s also because at too low a dose it doesn’t seem to do me much good so I have to get to just enough of a dose to feel sleepy from which is also enough to get edgy from. But also, I always neglect the entourage effect, and I think it applies to EVERYTHING in life. Case in point, if I weren’t already depressed and in a bad place in my life, I wouldn’t get the negative symptoms from the medicines I need as much. (side note: no really I identify a lot with Larry David, and in some twisted way that helps me)

Oh okay yeah vandwelling. I really don’t like the term. Mostly because it evokes a hipster sort of image. And I will be that hipster considering I’m going to get a good start and I suppose by the bare fact it’s by choice and not necessity? Fuck that, this is that “worrying about what other people think” bullshit I’m needing to get over. I’m so sick of it. I’m so tired of worrying about my image and what people think of me. I think so low of me because if I were looking at me through their eyes I would think low of me, curse of the gaze of the other maybe if I knew what that philosophical concept meant specifically... Keep going off track. That’s why I like Zizek so much, totally identify with his ramblings that go off in weird directions and have weird analogies and whathaveyou. I’m feeling prettay prettay prettay Larry Zizek today. Or maybe I should be Slavoj David right now with his name first because I’m feeling more pessimistic ala Zizek than go-get-the-world ala L.D. God. This rambling. I want to do the vandwelling.... let me start ANOTHER paragraph on that...

I have this Ford F150. I’m super happy I have a newish vehicle now that I don’t have to worry about but it is unfortunate it’s a V8. Probably making a bigger deal about that than I should. Being a minimalist and really just living out of a vehicle should offset the carbon footprint of that big motor, which will make itself useful I’m more than sure. I’m probably more concerned of the gas cost really, but I have to figure out avenues for income to begin with while on the road. Being a journeyman plumber and having other construction experience, it shouldn’t be hard to find side jobs if I bring my toolbags with me. Before I even hit the road though, if I can make it happen, there’s a lot I need to do: Get a camper top. Learn some new skills to carry with me on the road; I can teach myself the skid-steer for sure, maybe even a backhoe which would be nice. Also learn digital skills for online jobs; brush up on doing some graphics like posters or maybe finally the video editing. I have a ton of outdoor camping/hiking/such equipment from always planning on doing those things but never following through so I’m good on that front. Get prescriptions to the meds I need so I don’t have to carry benz and stims on the road. Make sure I’m completely legal but stocked up on stuff like kratom or cbd and such. TONS of Soylent, powder and liquid, or try huel for powder. Maybe some cheap foodstuffs too, cans and/or ramen, etc. Got plenty of reading and writing material. Need to get those last few things on amazon to complete the vandwelling electronic necessities and things of that nature.

eh I dunno maybe I’ma save this draft but I’m posting tonight whether I finish it or not. enough of this saving a draft for days, I should be writing more everyday anyway. ugh I forgot I’m coming in at four tomorrow. and forgot to mention I think it’s official I’m fucking done with this place cause I just can’t work with family. it’s so goddamn frustrating cause no matter what I look like an asshole. it makes me fe-- ugh this is a whole other post. I gotta work too early tomorrow for how much I’ve put into this so far.

#tshirts #vandwelling #benzo #high #grass #poptarts

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