- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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But man do I want to move back to a big city someday. Living in a rural area can feel really isolating sometimes.
Feeling this. If you're not into redneck hobbies, there's not much to do near me. Every conversation is about the weather, how much things cost, or some coded racist stuff. I feel like my brain is melting.
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Jul 9, 2022 11:18
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May 11, 2024 11:06
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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hello, this is the void, how's it going?
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Jan 7, 2024 12:49
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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c) good vibes only! (they are always allowed to complain about their problems, but anybody else doing so gets "let's talk about something more cheerful!" and if they don't, that's the end of the conversation)
humans
I gave up on these people in my life. I'm not sure what else you're supposed to do.
It's clear that they didn't respect me as a human being; I was like emotional Kleenex for them. I could see how over time in our relationship, by never properly asserting myself, I came to occupy some kind of subordinate role, from their perspective. I was there to make them feel good, in one way or another, and if I wasn't doing that, they had no use for me. They definitely didn't like it when I started to ask to not be treated like dogshit; that was met with "wow you don't like it when I make fun of you in front of everybody? That sounds like a you problem bro."
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Jan 13, 2024 23:38
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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one of my good-vibes-only friends asked me if my dad was feeling better, i said "unfortunately he passed away a few days ago" and she no poo poo looked at me blankly for two seconds and then started talking about something totally unrelated and never mentioned it again lol. a week later she was present when someone else asked me the same question, and she did it again.
That sucks dude. I think they don't see us as people with feelings. It's sort of mildly paralyzing for them to have to actually contemplate our humanity.
It really became apparent as I did therapy etc. that I'd surrounded myself with lots of copies of that sort of person. Fair weather friends. Most of my relationships were busted like that, because my family life was busted; busted felt normal to me. You're supposed to be constantly wondering if somebody you've known since childhood actually likes you or not, right?
I guess I for my part couldn't offer much earnest emotional support to other people, because I was so messed up, so I tended to attract people likewise incapable.
Now I'm a grown rear end man and realize making friends with a decent person is really hard.
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Jan 13, 2024 23:52
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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IMO, to paraphrase someone else, to work on your limitations with emotional engagement with others you have to:
1. set some of yourself aside
2. want to be in the situation in which the other person is centered
3. not view it as transactional
4. being open and not trying to force things to suit what makes you comfortable
Those things are basically completely devalued by our society.
I think that most people rightly know on some level that it is uncharted territory for them, and that a lot of the selfishness involved is a defense mechanism against revealing stunted parts of themselves, or of a newly exposed part of themselves being hurt.
good post. I think I struggled before with #1 - I didn't had any sense of boundaries, where I ended and someone else began. It would have been impossible to set myself aside in the way needed to form a healthy relationship.
And yeah, on some level I also had the sense that I was hanging out with people who had fully internalized social atomization. Being anything other than sarcastic and disengaged would have been almost impossible for them, unless they were eased very gently into it, something I didn't have the capacity for at the time.
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Jan 14, 2024 00:22
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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It's very hard, and I'm incredibly lucky that one of my childhood friends ended up being so great. All I have is him and one other friend who is a good guy but not the type who I'd generally choose to talk about serious things with.
Once my parents pass away (which won't be super long, since they're 75/73) I'd basically have no significant human connections left if not for him. And I honestly don't know how you'd even begin to form them as an adult my age. I think it's easier for people who are more....uh, normal? Like if you were a religious person in the South, that instantly gives you a zillion people to connect with. But I have very little in common with roughly 99.5% of people. Even my youth memories don't correspond to most other peoples' since I didn't listen to "normal" music and watched poo poo like 90s/00s Japanese live-action dramas as a teenager.
Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I keep wandering around thinking that there must be some weirdo like me somewhere in a 250 km radius around my home, but I've never met them. Then again, if they're like me they've gone to great lengths to conceal their weirdness so they can get through the day with minimal friction.
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Jan 14, 2024 14:04
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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Side note I've always found it funny that "incel" was coined by a lesbian in rural Canada who didn't like the the math on population density around her
didn't know anything about the history of the term, it's pretty lol. Sounds like she was in Ottawa when she created the site, though?
https://www.elle.com/culture/news/a34512/woman-who-started-incel-movement/
quote:"I was trying to create a movement that was open to anybody and everybody," says Alana, now a 43-year-old management consultant and artist from Toronto. In 1993, she was finishing an undergraduate degree in statistics at Carleton University in Ottawa, and she'd never had sex or anything close to a boyfriend.
her problem may have been her goonishness. many such cases.
quote: Sometimes she blamed her appearance: short, slightly overweight, eczema splotches. Often she felt like she'd passed through adolescence without learning the unspoken rules of a complex game that everyone else understood intuitively.
https://web.archive.org/web/20180830080840/https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-45284455
quote:Alana abbreviated "involuntarily celibate" to "invcel", until someone suggested that "incel" was easier to say.
quote:By 2000, Alana was moving away from the community, satisfied that it would continue without her.
"I didn't notice what was going on because I wasn't paying attention. My dating life was going OK (Ed.: !!!!). I didn't want to think about my history as a late bloomer."
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Jan 14, 2024 19:02
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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Yeah I found a scifi book club in town and it's been great just to have an outlet to go have a beer and ramble about random 70s pulp I read once
hmm that sounds like it owns bigly
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Jan 16, 2024 01:26
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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This poo poo (being alive) is tough!!!
I thought it would get easier!
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Jan 29, 2024 19:02
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May 11, 2024 11:06
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- Karach
- May 23, 2003
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no war but class war
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Post-schizophrenia, public diary 1:
I remember working my city job, cruising around downtown in a Sprinter van and being completely terrified by the homeless around me experiencing the same things I did; there but for the grace of god go I, rambling into the ether, talking to people that aren't there, suffering grand states of delusion, lost, entranced, entrenched in their own little worlds.
I spoke to some of them.
"There's no way you're schizo."
"poo poo, man, god bless, it's hard. This all loving sucks out here."
When I first started experiencing symptoms, it was truly unsettling and terrifying. Your brain will do anything it can to escape the torture of it, grasping for answers wherever you can find them in all five stages of grief.
First a Denial: no, I'm not sick, this is something terrible that befell me. I simply must get to the bottom of this.
Anger: No loving way. I'm not sick. gently caress this poo poo, CLEARLY the goddamn government uses a pre-war AI that lives in the airwaves found me by accident because I tripped ECHELON by some awful trick of my compounded existence. Clearly I am not to blame.
Bargaining: Okay, now that I've happened on the above suuuuuper universal truth, I say as I corncob into a nightmare state of paranoia exacerbated by the times and how people interact with media and each other, I'll just work with it until I figure out a solution to the situation that befell me, and I'll grow stronger for it.
Depression: This ever-changing and ever-adapting landscape of my delusions is really hurting me; I can't seem to escape it. I can't get out of bed. Everything is compounding, and no matter where I turn or what I turn to, there's rejection, fear, and the looming hoary specter of eternal suffering and the distance I'm falling. What's worse is that with no solution, and no therapy or help, I'm picking up more and more bad habits.
Acceptance: Wow, I'm in loving bad shape. What the gently caress happened? I have to get back up, even if I have *gulp* permanent damage, I know the body and mind can unlearn bad habits just as hard as they learned them.
Like the turtle on its back, you flail around for all explanations and remedy, stuck in a permanent-feeling cycle of falling, failing, and then in your vulnerable state validating your secret, dreadful, internalized narrative by angel-numbers-ing through life. Everything in the news seems to point to your One Horrible Path that you've carved out, and because nobody writes a manual or managed to survive the experience, you end up dying over and over to this awful Gotcha! feeling of the paranoia that creeps in over your thresholds in a poorly-tuned but pervasive Bad Stoichiometry of self-exploiting misunderstanding and that horrid Sink into the comforts of inevitability and despair that you feel on Can't Get Out of Bed depression days. Your internal monologue becomes Voices In Your Head; you forget your beautiful voice and perfectly normal responses to things to a sense of being invaded by Another, or an Otherness. You become easily distractible by anything that validates what you have come to Know, and you've forgotten oh so much of yourself. It takes sincere effort suddenly to cling to the you that you know, and your natural ebbs and flows become terrifyingly lost to this new feeling of being torn apart. Even your body feels possessed as you start attributing your old and new quirks to, and becoming the disorder; before you know it you're stuck in a multiple personality, uncertain hell.
Your body's hormonal secretions start to gently caress you up because you internally lost sight of the normal processes that regulate YOU, not just your body. You become afraid of endorphins. You sink further into grief, which only starts to potentiate itself. It's then that all your mental illnesses start to really burn you up and compound; time-kneaded feedback loops of pain and suffering start playing the most significant role in your life, and you continue to wither as you shut down all over yourself. In my case, because this was happening during COVID, you just succumb to your latent isolation, stop going out, give up on your basic responsibilities in life, lose your apartment, and forget your friends and family for this new hell that you're trapped in, day-in-day-out.
There's no escape.
There's no rope out of the chasm.
Later it turns out that nobody tricked you to be here, and you've developed this horrible instinct to stay with it, because it gave you comfort in uncertainty. With only yourself to blame, there's no enemy to slay, and you're a ghost, forever falling back to, and chasing yourself through a maze of your own unconscious design, constructed and trapped by the sum total of your life's experiences and the human brain's amazing natural ability to rationalize and construct as it forges onward through shot and storm, firing HARD on whatever it is it's fed, as always.
But you fight.
YOU GET UP.
gently caress YOU, REALITY. I DO NOT ACCEPT THESE CRUEL CARDS SO DEALT.
WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP.
YOU HAVE TO LIVE. YOU ARE DOWN TO THIS EDGE, AND THERE'S NO TURNING BACK. GLORIA GAYNOR HELP ME I WILL SURVIVE. THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO STILL LOVE YOU, AND YOUR HARD SUPERDENSE rear end REMEMBERS ALL THE WAY BACK TO YOUR CHILDHOOD. YOU CAN DEFINITELY HAZARD A COUPLE OF loving GUESSES AS TO WHAT STICKS IN YOUR SPOKES BROKE YOU DOWN AND BROUGHT YOU HERE, AND YOU CAN FASHION A loving OAR TO GET YOURSELF ACROSS THIS STYX AND START AVOIDING AND WRITING OVER IT ALL.
You are a modern man! EMPOWERED absurdly beyond anyone even the wildest dreams of a decade as recent as the 1980s! You can figure this poo poo out! It takes nothing to see through the same despairs and pitfalls that other people have endured! YOU WILL BUILD BETTER BACK, AND YOU WILL BEAT THIS poo poo.
gently caress IT, there's nothing to lose and everything to gain!
Slowly, you put down the broken pieces of presumption and paranoia you picked up and refashioned into cognitive comfort, instead accepting the hard truth; that these were sharp and dangerous things which you picked up the wrong way, and they are actively hurting you unless you let them go. You start to mend, the painful first steps of figuring out what to do with your damage merely the tip of the iceberg to your inevitable success.
You start getting up every day and establishing routine where even you didn't have it before. You go outside and start walking. You start cooking again. You stop flinching every time something sensitive triggers you in every medium. You don't fall prey to your old ways, feeling better every time you notice something lovely gone, or a vast improvement you never had before.
You start healing. You survive. You live. Things start minimizing, mitigating, and resolving. Even the relapses start to feel less painful, because you accept that nothing happens overnight, and slowly you become a better person and stronger for it.
You reach back out and find not only therapy and medication, but meditation, community, old friendships, your fuzzy children, playing games with your old LAN party high school homies again who never left you. You reconnect with your family. You do things you've needed to do for a long time. You resolve old problems. You start mending things, and so do you mend the very same.
You are more careful with yourself and your habits, because you caught a lucky break, and this is your moment; be stronger. Better. Harder, faster, even. This is it.
You only get one shot.
As a person who identifies as mentally deranged, some of this seems similar to the hosed up junk that goes on inside my own head, but the stuff that isn't seems bizarre and terrifying; there are whole horizons of madness out there I could walk toward, apparently.
So, uh, good job for hauling yourself back to something resembling reality again, I guess?
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Feb 15, 2024 02:35
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Jul 9, 2022 11:18
thinking this more and more
