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oodlenoodleroodle · 2 years

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(Reminder that I live in Finland)

I love it when I read in the newspaper some sort of tips on how to make things better, like right now i'n reading an interview with a psychotherapist about boredom and depression and how our floods of stimulation (tv, online, etc) make us more passive and how its good to do things more physically, such as:

walk or bike to work instead of driving

walk to the grocery store if at all possible

take the stairs instead of elevator

And I'm like, I do all that all the time because I am poor.

I walk 10 minutes to the bus station, take the bus, and then walk 10 minutes from the other bus station to work every workday. On the weekends when I work I have to walk 25 minutes to the motorway to get to the bus stop because there are no buses from the city center on the weekends.

I have a little shopping bag-cart that I take with me to buy groceries, because my only option is to walk to the grocery store.

I take the stairs to and from my apartment in the 4th floor every day because my building doesn't have an elevator. I cannot afford the rent in the buildings with elevators in this town.

So I am sort of having/developing a theory that there is somethint wrong* with middle class people that is caused by them being middle class. And it is funny and sad that so often middle class people advice other middle class people to try to live more like poor people to fix whatever is wrong with them.

* There is also something wrong with working class people that is caused by them being working class, and our societies have since the 1800s tried to diagnose and fix that, even with methods such as eugenics (sterilising working class women to "improve the race" and such).

This is because our societies have a middle class norm (compare to thr hetero norm etc), where being middle class is good and normal and desirable, and of course anyone not middle class does and should aspire to be middle class ("get a better job" instead of "even working class jobs should pay enough that people won't struggle").

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drugsbestfriend-blog · 6 years

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A depressed self loathing plea for help;;

Right so im suicidal as shit. I want to die so fucking bad but what will everyone think? If i didn't have this anxiety i would be dead. That and my daughter she's just turned two and she's incredibly clever and drop dead gorgeous she brand reps for a lot of companies im so proud of her. I love her so much but then at the same time i feel nothing at all..

I just feel so cold and so lonley inside me and my girlfriend are good i mean she wants to get married but i dont want to make a promise when i can't see myself being here by the time a wedding comes. Its not that i dont love her, i do. So much its just that i hate me. Its almost funny and ironic really how all of this feeling alienated and depressed is so incredibly narcissistic im doing this to myself. I know i am, i know its my head..

i know I'm fucked up.

I'm pushing everybody cloose to me away i always stay in and ponder my existence.

I do have passions though which i find so odd. I connect so much with music it's almost scary. I'm always constantly listening to music these artits speak to me. I feel their pain and i feel those songs are written about me which again is so narcissistic.. I've now started starving myself and turned back down the dark road. I started smoking weed consistently roughly 8 years ago because I've always struggled to concentrate on one thing at once and getting high helps slow my mind. Which leads to another abnormality of mine i have A.D.D (attention deficit disorder) and a overactive mind shadowing the depression and anxiety which is eating me alive.

I thengot pretty hooked on cocaine and M.D.M.A they helped make me feel better. I always called it my personal eurphoria. Damn i loved that shit.. I've always felt a connection with drugs. Never been much of a drinker though as my mother has a drinking problem which will inevitably be the slow painfully heartbreaking end of her. always said i dont want that for my kid and I've stuck to my word. My perfect beautiful little girl won't lose her father, her protector, her daddy, her hero to alcohol.. Great right?

No, She'll lose him to some stupid fucking issue's in his own fucking head or an OD on some shit.

See, the thing with the drugs is one of my closest friends who i met at work just happened to be the guy with the best sniff it the county. My dude got cash for days. He ain't short of shit i thought he had it real nice but with closer inspection.. he isn't happy. The guys like nearly thirty lost like 5 teeth has two kids and a mrs he's punching with. Still, every night he proceeds to go out and get wired.. it was great yeah.. but why didn't he want to be with his family? Somethint wasn't right.. still isn't i mean it's better but not good well obviously i got my sniff from him as he brought it into work so it was too easy, too tantalising i just had to find my self medicated remedy.

And i did. When i was wired i could relax. The other day the prefect metaphor for my thought process was revealed, so you know the london tubes at rush hour? So cramped you couldn't scratch your arse, so hot, sweaty and the stench is unbearable and then you finally get outside and there's nobody to be seen only visual perfection a slight fresh breeze, not too cold just enough to instantly relax as you take that fresh non polluted air. Thats what that first line is. That breath of fresh air i was hooked. At work every hour i was in the toilet racking up on my phone.

The journey of my pitiful ugly downward spiral was plunging dangerously out of control.

I then discovered mandy. That shit was insane. Pure crystals that good shit ya know..

I was in love with drugs, running parallel beside the unfathomable thought of how people become junkies..

The whole time i "knew what i was doing" i also "knew my limit" little did anybody know i was hoping to die.

I was having sex with every girl i could as often as i could.. the thought of blood going to my dick to stop me thinking so much didn't help in the slightest but it felt good. It may me feel good. Confident almost. I was impersonating personalities i had created in my head.. just to see if i could do it. That's not normal and i needed help. I was just too scared to talk about it. So i gave it some to the conclusion accurate or not I'd convinced myself it was right, if i take happy piils (anti depressants) and chill pills (anti anxiety shit) it would be adequately act as a alternative solution to these potential schizophrenic thoughts and/or actions.

I booked a doctors appointment and i told him just what he needed to hear to get what i needed but i was denied due to an attempt on my love prior to this. So they offered me the "wellbeing" which sucks dick its a load of patronizing questions to make these dark strong thought so much more prominent. So i jacked that in and carried on with my drugs.

Light at the end of the tunnel?

When my better half fell pregnant with my angel i dropped all the drugs. I said that's it now time for a change. My partner and i had only been together for a matter of weeks before i knocked her up so she knew about the drugs bur she didn't know how deep i was. So i got sober and my baby was born the whole time I'm still constantly experiencing this endless mental torture. A year down the line me and my partner agreed i would have 1 joint a night to help me get more than a couple hours of sleep a night which was great for a few months then we upped my dose to 2 to help my anxiety then 3 to have more control. It was bullshit i just loved being high. It took me somewhere. So i am now.. 5 a.m suicidal high as fuck and wired. Just venting.. to this safe place i can be someone and nobody

I need help i guess

#anxiety #depression #suicidal #mentalhealth #suicideawareness

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lores-to-be-forgotten · 4 years

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Ah the beginning...

Nothing yet something.

As you may imagine, it is a vast place, of something hard to conjure to your mind truly. A place of existant non-existence. A place where things are and are not, a singularity made anomaly made normalcy. To many, chaotic, althought such wouldn’t quite fit the word...

There is, a sense of order within this disorder, you see. Hard to understand for many, hard to percieve. none of us would blame you for it, after all, this place is not a place that was for your ilks, perhaps you may have found your starts here, from our flesh, our blood, and out very powers, but you are not whole, you are not as you used to be... now you are far more finite than before... much more... earthly, anchored to the prospects of the worlds you thread, even if you do not think so as much... Ah, but we derail from this...

Back to our little speech... yes...

From this place some would call madening, some would call dangerous, you can see, can you not? the little threads of time and space meaning little, reality doing and undoing itself. Somethint twisting, curling, dancing and swiming as it flies all around you...

This place goes and has gone by many names, and it will go for many more. This, is where we begin...

This odd vast place.

You have seen them, haven’y you? Yes... divinities with the wit to come without being called, without being invited. Yes... we do not enjoy those to enter without a reason, a purpose we deem fit. It is us that let them be in the first place... birthed from our dormant flesh. Their power is great, capable of many things, and yet ever so finite, limited. By a mind unable to quite reach the understandment needed to achieve what is greater...

Ah... but without them we are just this... aren’t we? The dormant waves that every one in a while both push ashore and unto the depths what can be found our our vast sea of endless potentials... So therein comes this... relationship, this mutualism found within them an our existence, in which each needs something of the other, each finds a balance from the others existence. For they need our knowledge, the purest forms of what compromises these worlds you all thread upon. But you can’t bring us whole, no... these worlds have a... particular distaste for our presence, they seek to never return to us, after all. But every thing comes with a cycle, a beginning, and its end, to let a ne cycle being within wheels and gears you can’t deny a role to have.

And so they call us...

It is natural that they pay a price for our coming, as you may imagine. To bring us to these domains. Both sides pay so, and we find ourselves... fragmented, unwhole, most of the time. By their hand and by the prices needed to come to be closer upon our own thoughtless creation. Some of us are birthed from the lifeforms within these world, from the few scholars capable to understanding the world thy are part of... they return to their nature, to their state of birth, a shame that they too suffer the fragmentation of their birth too.

Some are birthed from curiosty of ours as well, from ones you would consider old ones. Sometimes out of simple boredoom. A mantle passed from one to a lesser being seeking enlightment, ah, but enlightment comes to a price.

Our services come to a price, something of equal importance, generally...

After all, for every reaction, and equal opposite reaction...

Pray tell, what is it you’re willing to pay for it?

#|we are talking|#|a sight to things that are|#|aesthetics|

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welcome-to-sanjis-shitty-kitchen · 7 years

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This is why we can't have nice things Gabby. Please read if you have time, just sharing my thoughts a little.

Got assaulted by my sister over a pair of leggins, if she had just let it go i could have looked tomorrow but she had to punch me when i asked her to leave. And i did find a pair of leggins i can't remember if they're mine. So i did the only thing someone salty af would do, marked them with my initials, shoved them in her face and told her they were mine. But as my sister is the biggest failure in humanity i know she still believed they were hers. But it looks like i won for now, She acts as she owns everything in our house including the house itself, she owns 95% in our shared bathroom because she places her million of things on every available space there is and i have one tiny shelf, there's like no reason for me to have anything nice because she will take it. i'm so enclosed and store everything in my own room because sooner or later that shit will disappear. She's disgusting, annoying and the litteral worst type of person there is. So utterly selfish, stuck up, can't think for her self kind of person. And me as her sister is only good for serving her, there's so much fucking wrong and fucked up things with me because i'm not living up to her standards in what a little sister should be. Because apparantly i'm suposed to humor her and agree with everything she says...is she fucking insane? Just because i like sitting around in my underwear and play videogames and my room is "boy-ish" and i only care about essential hygene products and clothes rather then lots of lots of makeup and being a godamn fahsionista i'm not "normal". She calls herself a feminist but shoves that gender role bullshit down my fucking throat. Like different opinions doesn't even exsist in her dictionary, she is correct, she has the only will. Ofc she will think that because she only values her own opinion and can't respect anyone elses. She's like an obstinate fucking toddler and idk how to deal with this. So this scenario when mom bought her some soda, like a 2 L bottle. The one mom bought me today is 1.5 L. I would not say anything because maybe the store only had that soda, or maybe mom just grabbed one, or she didn't remember what she bought and is really tired from work and i'm just glad she didn't forget to pick that soda up from the store. But oh boy, my sister though, she would have screamed bloody murder at mom then start a fucking civil war with me because she wants half of what i have then. I'll still come out with less because she thinks she deserves more. Because it's unfair, well newsflash asshole, life aint fair. It annoys me to death how unacceptable she is of someone having more or better then her..... I don't fucking understand how she thinks, shes so stupid and overdramatic.... She has no fucking shame or compassion or humanity and it's honestly so sad that it is this way. My family is litterly the weirdest collection of selfish, racist, homophobic, biggoted cheating assholes i know and all i can say is thank fucking god i became nothing of that, thank god i don't drink, smoke, do drugs or is a garbage piece of human shit. I have a bad example of pretty much all bad there is in my closest family. I mean, i became a ball of anxiety and depression but hey thats waaaaay better then some fucking redneck biggoted asshole. My family is like a bunch of hardcore christians in a way except it's for the swedish lineage. YOU CAN ONLY BE SWEDISH IN THIS HOUSE. is basicly what my parents say aka i'm banned for speaking another language or things they don't understand or want to hear. I love my dads argument that only retarded fucking toddlers speak english. I would call that a gifted toddler u piece of shit. AHHH MAN, they hate me for being so "cultural" just because i can speak like 3 languages and some fucking latin, because i'm not interested in swedish culture. Because i'm different. Like i said different and different opinions is a bad thing here. And i'm not suprised parents don't understand anything whats going on the times and this world. Stuck in their little rutine and safe bubble of their work and home. Ofc they wont think anything different because they dont get involved with something else. As someone who invests in a lot of time on social media and see a lot of whats going on the world and different cultures and opinions, ofc i would have a broader perspective and way of seeing things. Thats not gonna change. I'm not gonna force any parents to see my way because thats a shitty thing to do. But i just wish, if someone bothered to read all this shit. No matter what, why can't parents be supportive, you don't need to understand it, you don't need be a part of it. Why can't u just tell ur own child like "ohh u wanna do that thing, well good on u! And have fun" is that too much too ask? Supportive parents could change childrens lifes, because no matter what happens you know mom and dad got ur back. So why is it that people like my parents cant even talk to their own kid unless its to relay information about something they have planned, or when they want me to do somethint. They dont ask about me, how im doing or what im thinking. It's probably been 10 years since i last trusted my mom to tell her anything i felt. And ive never talked to my dad that way unless its to defend myself for some bullshit. They cant even remember the names of my friends ive had for the past 7 years. They honestly couldnt give 2 shits about me as a person and it breaks my fucking heart having to deal with this shit. In like 90% of my conversations with my parents its either an argument or im lying trough my teeth to make it seem like im fine, that everything is fine. Because i can't trust the bastards with even my life, which why i fear for my godamn life everyday that they will get tired of me. Which is hella unfair seeming as my sister is barely employed and works like 3 months a year the last 3-4 years. For now i'm being forced to get a drivers license so i can get a job. But when i do get a job and make a decent wage im gonna move into town which litterly makes my cars useless as monthly bus card is probably cheaper then maintaining a car and paying for a parking spot and i would have to look for an apartment with a garage....no thanks..and everyday....just a parking spot at work would be like 1/3 of my salary. Because thise things aint foe free. But i guess i'm gonna be glad once i have a drivers license, even if i dont use it. But i am petty as hell that theyre gonna force it on me and not my sister. If you actually read this you deserve a godamn gold star. Or like an entire cake.

#By shivas titts this is long #i'm so sorry but i felt like ranting #not gonna lie iv'e been writing on this thing for an hour now #its 3 am and im very disapointed in humanity #at least my family #Seriously tell me if u read it #i wanna say thanks

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