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#452 Aug 16 2018 at 7:57 AM Rating: Good
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Pretty sure Tirith got it and was being sarcastic. It was a James Gunn joke.
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#453 Aug 16 2018 at 8:38 AM Rating: Good
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I'm hoping this won't become a giant wall of text. I just realized something this morning after waking up, and I want to make note of it.

In the past several years, and as far back as I can really remember, I have not really been doing anything outside of the months I was failing at life at RT school. Today and the past two days are representative of the usual and most normal circumstances:

Wake up. Sit alone in room. Eat. Browse the internet. Play a game. Read a book. Get tired. Go to sleep.

It involves no talking to anyone, so it can be assured that it is perfectly appropriate. I am out of sight and out of mind, and as far as the rest of the world is concerned, I don't exist. --which is how things should and out to be according to everyone.

It is indescribable. I want to say "miserable" but that doesn't quite capture the intensity and frustration. I've made the comparison before to being buried alive. It's like that, but with stuff, and things.

This is the normal, but in the days after being under circumstances where I feel happy, it is particularly painful. This was my realization: It is withdrawal symptoms.

I could be addicted to heroin or opioids, but I'm not. I'm addicted to people. I only feel ok when I am with them, and I'm not with anyone nearly enough. Instead of shooting up, I want to interact with someone I care about. Talking, playing a game, watching a movie together, being close to someone. Isn't that the healthy and normal thing?

Don't reply. I already know what literally everyone would respond with: "Not with x person, it isn't." Why, that person is too young, too old, too female, too male(gay!)-- should anyone ever come into my life who actually WANTS me around, there will always be some reason as to why it isn't appropriate. Usually it falls into one of two categories or both: A. They are too young or B. They are a woman.

So I am left with two options: A. Ignore what anyone else thinks and continue talking to x person, or B. Cut off communication with them, block them on everything, and return to sitting in silence in my room wishing I had someone to talk to and wanting to die AS IT HAS BEEN SUGGESTED so many times!

I remember something Jophiel said a while back:

Jophiel wrote:
Meh, no one has the right to socialize with whoever they choose. That you personally only choose to socialize with magic soul-women is on you, not society.


But here's the thing: I don't get to choose. The people I socialize with are those who have made an earnest and genuine effort to socialize with me. I occasionally meet people who AREN'T completely indifferent and/or hostile. I meet someone who will randomly message me throughout the day and talk to me for hours on end, but ohhh, it just wouldn't be right for me to reciprocate because of some dogmatic passe. NO. Fuck that shit, and fuck you.

Fuck. Everything.

It's just like how all these people DEMAND that I work but when I show up somewhere to do that, then I'm "not what they're looking for at this time." I am so tired of eating bullshit. Every, single aspect and structure of our lives is bullshit. Capitalism. Marriage. Work. School. "Justice"... I am tired of living by the rules and expectations of MORONS, and so should you.

Nothing I say or do can change anything. The best and most reasonable option I have is to die. I have no place here. I SHOULD'NT be here. But as with all things, I don't get to decide. I can't get myself to put the cord around my neck no matter how hard I will for it, because there is always something going on that is leading me along, however small, that has me tricked into thinking it might be worth staying-- something "inappropriate."

"But what about...?!" Oh yeah, I'm married. I have kids. I have friends I play pool with two hours a week. I have cats. I can be alone. I can read a book. These are the extenuating circumstances. These are my shitty bag of carrots that I'm expected to eat and be content with. I can't make my relationships with these people any better. It is what it is. They aren't what I need. They are passive and indifferent. They DO NOT WANT ME and I can not change that.

It is what it is, and it can't be changed. No amount of pie in the sky optimism or positive thinking can change it. That is my word vomit for the day.
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#454 Aug 16 2018 at 9:10 AM Rating: Excellent
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But here's the thing: I don't get to choose.

75% of your posts are talking about how everyone else in the world is a retarded sheep-person stumbling through life in some depressing socially acceptable manner and the other 25% are you obsessing about some 13 year old girl who isn't jaded enough yet to find that shit tiresome.

If you think this is some universal constant outside your control then so be it.
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Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
#455 Aug 16 2018 at 6:36 PM Rating: Excellent
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When you're depressed, you often want simple things to be really complicated. It feels better for fundamental reality to be against you and out of you control, because the alternative is that it is in your control and only one mucking it up for you is you. Imagining an existential problem you cannot solve is more pleasant to think about than that the problem is simple, mundane, and their own fault. And not for some "I'm special and unique related to the world" type own fault, but "everyone else is in the same spot and just doing it better than I am."

Edited, Aug 16th 2018 7:45pm by Allegory
#456 Aug 20 2018 at 7:09 AM Rating: Good
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Jophiel wrote:
Quote:
But here's the thing: I don't get to choose.


I'll just skim over everything you just said and plug in some random numbers in order to form a reply that has nothing to do with anything.


Ok. That's fine too.
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#457 Aug 20 2018 at 7:20 AM Rating: Good
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Allegory wrote:
When you're depressed, you often want simple things to be really complicated. It feels better for fundamental reality to be against you and out of you control, because the alternative is that it is in your control and only one mucking it up for you is you. Imagining an existential problem you cannot solve is more pleasant to think about than that the problem is simple, mundane, and their own fault. And not for some "I'm special and unique related to the world" type own fault, but "everyone else is in the same spot and just doing it better than I am."

Edited, Aug 16th 2018 7:45pm by Allegory


I'm positive it isn't just me. A frequent mistake I make when talking about anything is how I tend to make it extremely personal. In this case, I am bringing up the subject because of things that affect me personally. I am not imagining problems. If anything, it is easier for someone who can't see from my perspective to come to that conclusion because there is no way for someone to understand when the circumstances that be have worked out so differently for them.

I don't claim to not be at fault, either. I'm fairly certain that I'm fundamentally broken in some way or another. I'm sure if I could just flip some magic switch inside of myself I could walk among other people and be some productive member of society. Sadly, it isn't as simple as that, depression or not.
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Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

#458 Aug 20 2018 at 8:58 AM Rating: Good
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I've been thinking a lot lately about this forum, the OoT. I think that's what it used to be called. Nearly everyone is gone, so I have made this thread to be my personal journal of sorts-- kind of like how premium members used to have and maybe still do. I don't know. I come here to write because that is what I have been doing for about 15 years now. All that time and so little has changed. There is something about the format of this site that feels familiar and comfortable. Reply or don't reply, read or don't read. I will write either way. I wonder if somehow I could go back and write a book off of all of this somehow-- not that anyone would want to read it. I don't know.

I don't think anyone who actually read and thought about the things I have been writing would think I was talking about imaginary problems. That would be like saying that there simply aren't any problems at all, and that everything is perfectly right and ok with the world. In reality, there are so many problems-- ones people never think about even when it effects them and everyone else directly.

Sure, there are probably some cases where I am overthinking things a bit. --but I hate that word. "Overthinking." It's like that whole "ignorance is bliss" thing. Let's just pretend that everything is simpler than it is. I don't want to do that.

Yesterday was a good day that started badly. I woke up around 8am feeling particularly bad-- the kind where the pain becomes too intense and the possibility of suicide is fully realized. It hangs over my head like a menacing ghost. Or maybe it isn't such a bad thing, after all. It is natural. Inevitable. I try to think of ways to stop thinking of death in a negative light. --just a few seconds of discomfort before I'd lose consciousness, and I'd die without ever knowing. The world as only I know it would be destroyed forever.

Then I got a text from one of my pool buddies. She wanted to know if I was free around 1pm. They were out of town for the day and wanted me to take the kids(Fujoshi and her two younger siblings) to the local gaming lounge so they wouldn't just be sitting home alone while they were away. It was fairly short notice at this point, but I obliged.

I went to their house to pick them up, remembering to bring the spare guitar I had promised them. Fujoshi is to begin a music program of some sort at her school, and they were going to rent a guitar for her, so I offered one of mine. I had cleaned it the night before and removed the old strings. They asked me to take them to McDonald's first, where they all ordered those microwaved pancakes they have there. When we arrived at the game place, it was packed full of people. Apparently there was some sort of Fortnight tournament going on there and none of the game consoles or computers were available. So I had them return to the car to finish their food so we could come up with a new plan. Fujoshi called their mother, who suggested we go back to my place to pick up my 6 year old, then take them all to Planet3, which is some kind of giant gymnastics warehouse filled with trampolines and foam pits and the like. They had some kind of coupon for four to go there and play for an hour. On the way there, Fujoshi had me drive by the residence of some guy at school she liked. She texted him to let him know she was outside, describing his house to him, then ordered me to quickly drive away before she could be seen. Smiley: confused

We stopped for gas, then arrived at Planet3. Fujoshi invited her friend who she was just stalking to join her there, which he did. They all ran into the jump area and went crazy. It was a rare opportunity for my son to get to go out and do something fun in the real world for once, but he got tired quickly. At some point, Fujoshi's little sister suffered a minor injury. Another girl was throwing foam blocks at her as she attempted to cross some kind of tightrope thing. She fell off, and on the way down hit her armpit on the rope. She clutched her arm and looked at me and had this look on her face that was just heartbreaking, so I waded into the foam pit to rescue her. She held onto my hand all the way back to the bench where I had been supervising from. It was then that I realized something. Not only did I care for them as if they were my own, but they also regarded me as a parent. I was not just some guy or some friend of their parents. It's funny, because the other night, Fujoshi texted me and asked me to take her to Chik fil A before they closed. Her parents did not want to take her so they told her to ask her "second dad."

When their time was up, I took them home and applied neosporin to the scraped armpit. Fujoshi went into her room and emerged with the guitar I brought over from earlier. I showed her how change the strings and how to tune it using an app called "GuitarTuna" which actually uses the phone's microphone to listen for the correct pitch and indicated if it was too low or too high. The next hour and a half I spent teaching someone who had never held a guitar before the fundamental basics. I found myself mirroring all the things my instructor used to tell me. It was such a tremendous joy to teach her and watch her make so much progress in such a small amount of time. By the time her parents came home, she was already playing basic melodies. They were pleased, and I was so proud of her. Her mom says she worried it would be just for school, and the moment the class was over she would forget about it-- but because we love spending time together, that is something we can do for hours and hours and all the time. I greatly look forward to teaching her more and dream of the day when we can play music together in flawless harmony.
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#459 Aug 20 2018 at 9:03 AM Rating: Good
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Prior to the other day, I had not touched a guitar in more than 15 years. After a day of catching up I feel like I've gained something like +700 Dexterity, because I completely destroyed them at pool last night. I never realized the difference playing an instrument would make with something like that or what correlation there might be, but the difference from last week was astounding. It is an interesting thought.
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Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

#460 Aug 22 2018 at 6:06 PM Rating: Good
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The same thoughts keep turning over and over in my mind. I am not a "real man" unless I am spending the most of my time chasing dollars at some kind of job. That is really the bottom line. But I'm not employable. I don't have the right personality type. I'm not friendly and outgoing with most people nor do I want to be. I had jobs before. ******** jobs, because I faked being one of them. I faked my eagerness to work for their company just like I faked the notion that the people I was interviewing and working with were deserving of any kind of respect.

I can't be fake anymore. -- not now. Not knowing the true extent of how disgusting people are. I keep thinking that, if for some reason, I was ever forced to go back to the hospital where I was a student at clinicals, I would silently murder as many people there as I could before they could stop me. If ever I had no choice but to go back to working at Walmart, the choice to kill myself would become extremely easy.

Of course, I would never be forced to go back. They don't need or want me. I am completely irrelevant. Already forgotten.

I suppose I am "lucky." I can survive by being my wife's thrall who stays at home and does her bidding. I don't particularly hate that. I'm not constantly subjected to the torture of having to interact with drooling Florida Man and People of Walmart every minute of everyday in this place. I just have to be alone a lot.

But I am not a "real man." Therefore I am completely disqualified from pursuing other relationships, the same way that I'm disqualified from having a job. I did not fit and got effectively filtered out. I am not a person. I am a defective unit. A broken and useless thing. Trash. Junk.

My biggest problem is that I don't care about money or wealth. I'm just not normal if I'm not a living Jewish stereotype.

Not everything is ****, though. Not everyone is a waste of oxygen. My former coworker and his wife, for instance. My pool buddies... they're far from perfect, but I don't expect them to be. I really like them, and they are so kind to me. This morning I was invited by the wife among them to watch Deadpool 2 with her at their house. They just got it on Blue Ray. It was just me and her. My wife would be furious if she knew, even though we literally did nothing but watch the movie. All of our kids were at school, and our spouses were at work. It was a really good movie, and despite being a sequel was even better than the first. Tomorrow we're going to watch Logan, since they made reference to it in the movie and she was appalled that I had never seen it. I'm really looking forward to that.
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Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

#461 Aug 23 2018 at 7:12 AM Rating: Excellent
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It must suck being the one person in the entire world that has to fake being eager to work somewhere and to have to pretend everyone they work for and with deserves respect.
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#462 Aug 23 2018 at 7:14 AM Rating: Excellent
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lolgaxe wrote:
It must suck being the one person in the entire world that has to fake being eager to work somewhere and to have to pretend everyone they work for and with deserves respect.

Who knew so many people were thrilled to be working at Walmart?
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Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
#463 Aug 24 2018 at 12:21 AM Rating: Good
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lolgaxe wrote:
It must suck being the one person in the entire world that has to fake being eager to work somewhere and to have to pretend everyone they work for and with deserves respect.


Where do you get all this "only person in the world" business from? That is the second time that has come up from two different people this week.

It's as if

Single gunshot at 2:14am sounded like about 45 feet away from the back door taking note of that.

Is it somehow important if more than one person is effected by these circumstances? Do you think I don't know that someone, somewhere else or even most people experience the same thing?

It's like, "Oh, I think I'll eat a sandwich today. What a fantastic idea!"

to be followed by a comment like:

"Oh it must be nice to be the only person on Earth who likes sandwiches, how droll. ::long exaggerated eyeroll::"

I'm guessing you must be trying to say "Oh, well everyone else hates doing it, but still does it." Am I right?

Edited, Aug 24th 2018 6:46am by Kuwoobie
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Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

#464 Aug 24 2018 at 8:54 AM Rating: Excellent
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Kuwoobie wrote:
I'm guessing you must be trying to say "Oh, well everyone else hates doing it, but still does it." Am I right?

/golfclap
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Belkira wrote:
Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
#465 Aug 25 2018 at 7:49 AM Rating: Good
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Wait, really? That is your point? I was making mockery of the idea.

So, let's get this straight:

Nobody likes working for Walmart (with some exceptions) but they do it anyway. Therefore it is a good and acceptable idea.

Because not liking your job is the same thing as fighting the urge to claw out your throat with your fingernails after being there for 30 minutes?

As for everyone else who works there and haven't quite reached that stage of development yet: Why should they?

As gbaji once stated some time ago when the topic came up about low wage jobs: The work they are doing is not worth any kind of substantial pay. -- and for that he is absolutely correct.

The jobs themselves are worthless.

No one needs to be a cart pusher at Walmart or a cashier at 711. Society would not collapse without fast food. Yet here we are. People work at these jobs because they know there are no other options. There is no choice and it is something that can't be changed. -- and God forbid all the worthless peasants of the world stopped working at these places and all those poor shareholders stopped making bank off of them. The horror.

I feel like we're getting off topic with this. My original point was, I will not work anymore because I know now that there isn't any place I can go where I do not feel incredibly unwelcome-- where I must share an intense mutual hatred with nearly every other person. I have no incentive for doing it unless I'm really interested in continuing to work for peanuts and being there literally makes me want to kill myself and others.

Oh, but everyone else is doing it. Just get a job, maaan!
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Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

#466 Aug 25 2018 at 9:59 AM Rating: Excellent
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Kuwoobie wrote:
Wait, really? That is your point? I was making mockery of the idea.

The point is that everyone rolls their eyes at "Boohoo, I'd have to go to work when I don't like and be like THOSE people!!!" especially when it comes in some teen-emo wrapper about clawing eyes out and contempt for everyone and all that trash.
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Belkira wrote:
Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
#467 Aug 25 2018 at 10:18 AM Rating: Good
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How long before the totally not creepy obsession over the friend's wife cause she showed him some kindness, which leads to her running away and more depressed feelings?
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#468 Aug 26 2018 at 7:10 PM Rating: Good
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Kuwoobie wrote:
My original point was, I will not work anymore because I know now that there isn't any place I can go where I do not feel incredibly unwelcome-- where I must share an intense mutual hatred with nearly every other person. I have no incentive for doing it unless I'm really interested in continuing to work for peanuts and being there literally makes me want to kill myself and others.


What I, and maybe some others are saying is that your situation is not unique. Neither the external factors of the way reality is nor the internal factors of how you realty to other people and your circumstances. Other people have problems, like yours, and manage to make do.

I understand being told "git gud" is incredibly unhelpful advice in that it is directionless. However, your posts read like you want to frame the problem as insurmountable, that somehow the way you relate to the world is a cosmic problem that is unsolvable. It's not. Most people solve it. You can change your circumstances. You can change you.

I've got problems too buddy, even if I don't elect to publically share them. I've worked minimum wage for a few years in fast food after I graduated college, because I was lazy and ignorant. It was embarrassing and didn't do the greatest for my self-esteem. But I did it, got promoted, had a setback, moved on to an entry level job in a better field, and got promoted a few times again to a much better position. My current situation is much better.

I've had a cousin I helped tutor as an adult who's education was massively ignored in homeschooling. He's got problems. He had "I needed to teach myself to learn to read at age 16" problems. He worked entry level fast food too, and pursued some technical training that didn't pan out. Not sure exactly how he is sitting now.

There are people in worse positions with worse anxiety, hatred, and mental health than you. If that is the competition you want to enter, then you lose. Your posts read like you want to win that.
#469 Aug 27 2018 at 8:31 AM Rating: Good
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If it's worse for other people. Ok. I don't know about them or their problems. I only know about mine. I write here because it is a temporary relief for the pressure that I feel. Telling me that other people are worse off doesn't change anything. Telling me that everything is my fault doesn't change anything.

I'm not just going to magically forget everything that has happened. I can't just pretend and play make believe that things are different from what they are.

I think what is happening is perfectly natural. I have been filtered out. I didn't make the cut. I was not meant to survive. I was especially not meant to have a son, but I'm sure he'll be filtered out eventually as well. I'm only alive right now because of this incredibly perverted system we've come up with where everyone has to live for as long as possible no matter what-- where we'd rather lock people up and feed them all their lives instead of killing them. We'll put down animals we love when they get too sick or redundant, but we won't afford that courtesy to people.

I know there are plenty of other people with these problems. I'm sure some of them get lucky and find a way out. That probably can't be said for most however. I'll find a way out soon. I'll finally be free. I just need to learn to stop trying.
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Galkaman wrote:
Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

#470 Aug 27 2018 at 10:23 AM Rating: Good
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Kuwoobie wrote:
I have been filtered out.
You're not filtered out, you're just lazy.
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#471 Aug 27 2018 at 2:28 PM Rating: Excellent
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Kuwoobie wrote:
Telling me that other people are worse off doesn't change anything. Telling me that everything is my fault doesn't change anything.

Nothing changes anything with you so it's not as though being honest is hurting anything.
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Belkira wrote:
Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
#472 Aug 27 2018 at 7:13 PM Rating: Good
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It's also not "everyone is worse off than you," it means "there are some people who were worse off than you, and they have manage to improve their lives." I'm not saying "Cheer up, your situation is not so bad". I'm pointing out the fact because you seem to be describing your situation as unalterable. It's not. You have power and control here. You can make things better.

It's astounding how far a job and some positive thinking can take you. This isn't self help woo. Psychological studies show that both depressive thinking and positive thinking work in feedback loops. When you are depressed, you will recall earlier memories as more depressing than you would those exact same memories in a healthier state. An honest job, no matter how entry level, can provide some base level of self esteem over no job. IT also provides money, and more money can help reduce anxieties associated with finances (which are one of the most common strainers on marriages). I'm assuming you're in a position to work because you discussed nursing training earlier, but if you need to be a stay at home dad or volunteer, that's fine to, as long as you treat it like work.
#473 Aug 28 2018 at 3:12 PM Rating: Good
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lolgaxe wrote:
Kuwoobie wrote:
I have been filtered out.
You're not filtered out, you're just lazy.



Thanks Hannity. You forgot to say entitled. Why, there are people living in grass huts dying from cholera but here we are with our refrigerators and color TVs. We just haven't given enough of ourselves until we're like them. We really ought to lower our expectations some more.



Allegory wrote:
It's also not "everyone is worse off than you,"


Did I say that? No really. I might have. I don't remember. I don't think I did, though.

Quote:
it means "there are some people who were worse off than you, and they have manage to improve their lives." I'm not saying "Cheer up, your situation is not so bad". I'm pointing out the fact because you seem to be describing your situation as unalterable. It's not. You have power and control here. You can make things better.

It's astounding how far a job and some positive thinking can take you. This isn't self help woo. Psychological studies show that both depressive thinking and positive thinking work in feedback loops. When you are depressed, you will recall earlier memories as more depressing than you would those exact same memories in a healthier state. An honest job, no matter how entry level, can provide some base level of self esteem over no job. IT also provides money, and more money can help reduce anxieties associated with finances (which are one of the most common strainers on marriages). I'm assuming you're in a position to work because you discussed nursing training earlier, but if you need to be a stay at home dad or volunteer, that's fine to, as long as you treat it like work.


Ok. I get that. I also appreciate that you are at least trying to understand by the way. That is my goal. I am trying to make sense of this. I am trying to understand.

I realize not everything is shit. Today anyway. I don't feel like setting everything on fire today. I can't explain why. There is more to it than simply being depressed, though. I don't want to keep making the same mistakes, and no matter my current state of mind, I can't say spending twelve years of my life working for Walmart and other bottom of the barrel type jobs was not a huge mistake. It really was. I really regret doing it. But I still feel pressured to continue doing it.

Things are different now than they were years ago. I am not at all concerned about money. It would take at least seven of me working at jobs that would hire me to make as much as my wife makes. It would take at least 10 Kuwoobies to equal 1 Kuwoobie's wife in income if she didn't call out all the time and decline the chance to work extra for the huge incentives they offer her.

I spent the last two years of my life trying to follow her path. I went to the same school as her, but not to be a nurse. I went in for radiology tech, x-rays and CT scans and such. I had perfect grades in my gen ed classes. I didn't really have to try until the core classes began. I was trained to take xrays of the chest, abdomen, upper and lower extremities, skull and spine, and my skills at doing this were on par with that of my classmates, with the exception of two who were particularly good at it.

After many months of studying, we began clinicals last January, where we were split up and assigned to local hospitals and outpatient facilities. It was the last big step before graduation. I had one more year of doing just this and a couple of classes in between.

I worked at a hospital as a student tech, and it was there that everything fell apart. The anxiety was so intense. I did not belong there. I kept thinking it was all in my head. Aside from the radiologist, I was the only man there out of some 30-40 people that I interacted with. Why? It felt so awkward. The verbal and body language most of them used towards me felt incredibly hostile, while a few seemed friendly, even flirty-- they served to do nothing but irritate the others further. Most of the time I didn't know where they wanted me to be or what I was supposed to be doing. I just knew I wasn't allowed to sit down or appear idle, but I did everything they told me to do, which usually included collecting laundry and trash and cleaning exam rooms. Occasionally I would get the opportunity to perform on patients, then more and more. Every minute I was there felt like hours, and every day was an enormous challenge. --but I toughed it out and pushed through no matter how I felt, and I went every day.

By the end of the third week, I had observed dozens of CT scans and invasive fluoroscopic procedures where I was trained to assist whoever the radiologist was that day. By that third week, I had loads of experience taking xrays with both the mobile and stationary machines. I had amassed hundreds of images with my tags on them with very few mistakes. It was mostly chest x-rays. Rarely there would be patients with fractured wrists from punching a wall or something like that.

On Friday of the third week, I was finally feeling confident. I had a load of signed competencies under my belt, far more than what I needed. I had five more weeks of that place to go before taking more classes.

Then Monday came around, and everything was suddenly different. The boss lady had returned from being sick from the previous week. I can't really explain it in any way other than she was being a raging ***** with a huge chip on her shoulder. The routine I had become confident with the week before was gone. I was to work with her that day. So I spent that day in a single exam room with her screaming at me incoherently, becoming more and more angry when I didn't do exactly what she wanted when it was never clear to me exactly what that was. She was reckless and had no regard for safety or protocol for herself or the patients.

At some point during the day, she ordered me to return a patient to "the lobby." I was a student, and I knew it was not my place to escort a patient anywhere. I have BEEN TOLD THIS. She knew exactly what would happen. I walked with the patient to the front lobby and bid him a good day. But oh, she meant the ER lobby. The lobby I'd never seen or been to before-- the one in the total opposite direction she had pointed to when she told me to take him to said unspecified lobby.

Mind you, this is the same vindictive and condescending cunt who had called me into her office after the first week to discuss my hairstyle. You see, I used to have very long hair, and this didn't set well with her. --and even though I kept it neat and tied back like literally everyone else who worked there, it was somehow a problem for me. So she calls me into her office and shows me her Google search of all sorts of man-buns and pretty bows I could put in my hair to make it more "professional" smiling and pretending to be serious the entire time. I told her I would simply go and get it cut, and I did. When I came back the next day I had a very short, trimmed hairstyle you might expect an upstanding Christian man to have. "Oh it looks so nice! You didn't have to do that for me." she said.

So this mishap with the patient going back to the wrong lobby was a very big deal. She made a big dramatic scene about it in front of everyone and demanded I go back to Kaiser to speak with my instructors. I was happy to leave early that day. Another minute in that place and I would have gouged out her beady little eyes with my pen.

So I returned to Kaiser to discuss the situation with my instructors, and while I was on the way there, boss lady had apparently sent them a nasty email, saying she didn't want me to come back. This basically lead to them telling me I was out of the program-- that all the work I had done was for nothing, and that I should look at other options such as IT. "Why, all the young men are in IT." "I think you would be good at that." she insisted.

But you know, I had only just been trained to do RT, which I had started to become quite good at. Why not start ALL OVER and learn a field I have no interest in whatsoever? Why? Because they didn't like me. So I can be IT's problem and have some raging cunt pull the same kind of bullshit and set me even further into debt with that place? I was furious, but I managed to maintain my composure and explained my side of the story only for it to be ignored. By this point I was done anyway. I wasn't going to fight it. They were right. I wasn't cut out for medical work. "I can't teach you how to be a person" my instructor told me. I was literally not a person.

I can do xrays. I am trained to do it. I understand radiation and all the formulas involved. I can take a perfect chest x-ray every time when there isn't a raging ***** screaming in my ******* ear.

But it's all for nothing. Now I get emails in my inbox every day about how I owe student loans more money and I have no intent to pay them. They can't garnish my wages this time because I don't have a job, so **** 'em.

I guess the moral in all this is: I am perfectly aware that I can keep trying. I could keep rolling until I roll a perfect 20 and everything could work out great. But past experiences have shown me time and time again that, while it is POSSIBLE for things to work out ok, it is MUCH MORE probable that I will draw my bow and shoot myself in the face. I don't know. That made a lot more sense in my mind. It's a D&D reference. My wife is rushing me to leave and do errands so I can't really focus on writing anymore.
____________________________
Galkaman wrote:
Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

#474 Aug 28 2018 at 8:40 PM Rating: Good
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So roll the D20.

Let me tell you a little bit about ecology, because I like ecology. Predator success rates (outside of African Wild dogs) are fairly low. It's hard to get exact numbers and varies by species, but it can range from as high as 50% down to 5%, 1 in 20 hunts failing. It's not just not getting a meal, because hunting often involves expending a large amount of energy to catch something running for its life. Every failed hunt are excessive calories burned, wasted on no return. For ambush predators, it's a mind numbingly boring game. Tarantulas can spend all day waiting for a single cricket to walk by their burrow. That's how they make their living. They roll the dice, and most of the time they fail. And yet this is still an evolutionary stable and successful strategy. It works.

Being rejected and failing repeatedly is an awful feeling that makes most people not want to try at all. While failing to obtain gainful employment can be an emotional expenditure (just like caloric expenditures for failed hunts), the failures largely are irrelevant after a single success. Someone could receive several rejections a day, but work for the same employer for a decade. I successfully getting a job is a kill, then most people only need to kill a few times in their entire life to sustain themselves. When the quality of the food is so high, their is typically an inverse relationship with the failure rate. If I bet on black in Roulette, then I'm likely to win, but only double my money. If I bet on 00, then I'll mostly fail, but score big when I do win.

Job hunting hunting is about getting over the hump of massive amounts of rejection, failure, and bad opportunities and succeeding only maybe 4 times your entire life.

Edited, Aug 28th 2018 9:41pm by Allegory
#475 Aug 29 2018 at 7:38 AM Rating: Good
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Kuwoobie wrote:
You forgot to say entitled.
Well, you are the one complaining about how it's someone else's fault you can't socialize.
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I think it’s the duty of the comedian to find out where the line is drawn and cross it deliberately.
#476 Sep 03 2018 at 4:47 AM Rating: Good
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Galkaman wrote:
Kuwoobie will die crushed under the burden of his mediocrity.

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