NEW VIDEO: I Quit MMOs and THIS Happened
Hitaru
-
Posts
1,071 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Posts posted by Hitaru
-
-
- Day 59
Schedule has begun today. No problems so far. Last week was mostly unproductive and immersed in compulsive gaming. At least I helped a friend with his religious duties dressing up as some kind of KKK impersonator and carrying a banner in a parade during Holy Week. No one inside the brotherhood wanted to do it (such hypocrisy) and I was curious about this peasant tradition, so there I was. I'm not religious but I must admit it was fun and beautiful. These gaudy catholics sure know how to put on a show! Being granted entrance to Heaven is a plus. Next thing is pilgrimage to Mecca, just in case. And start thinking in my next reincarnations...
While taking care of my immortal soul is no joke, I'm more worried about earthly matters. I have good expectations about this new schedule but those voids still worry me. I'm afraid I will mess up the first moment I have free time. AND I've been playing a lot lately.
Even if I'm being useful and productive I still don't have a clear reason to be here besides filling time doing something aside of playing. I should be proud of it, it's an achievement by itself (I could be playing now, for instance) and in a way I am, but I feel doing this stuff is more a mean than an end. I'm here, translating, writing, drawing, studying, ok, but for what higher reason? Yeah, to pass my time. But I could do that by playing as well, I don't want to think life is something you spend being busy just because. I feel better doing this instead of playing so I guess the sense of purpose it's not something that you have but something you develop with time. It's too soon to draw conclusions, I'll keep this routine for some days and update. As always, weekends are the perpetual Sword of Damocles, but fortunately I have several friends to catch up with.
And also as always, my mood is stormy and volatile but in the overall I feel all the fine I can achieve. I'm learning more and more quirks of my disposition are inherited, particularly things about aforementioned mood. I still have control and choice over how I handle this mood, and certainly I do in a different way than my mother (on the inside at least), but being something "natural" and not the result of circumstances means I'll have to struggle with it, with varying results, during all my lifetime. That's not enough to fill me with despair, but it sure is annoying. Anyway I still have two arms, two legs, some brains and with effort I could even be somewhat cute. No matter what my melodramatic self thinks, my life could be far, far worse.
I'm getting sidetracked. Right, schedule, check, weekend, check, social, check, purpose, check. I guess the only thing left is what to do about games. I think I'm going to start another detox to see if I can life my life with a schedule and without games at the same time. I played yesterday so today is the first day. If I'm correct tomorrow is day 60 so a month would be a valid timespan. But that's getting ahead, let's see if I can survive this week to begin with.
-
- Day 47
An absolute mess. Hard relapse, lost all hope, skipped every activity... utter chaos. My best friend stepped in with his white charger and heroically pulled me out of the hole. He's determined, optimistic, passionate, loyal. We've made a schedule together and arranged to be accountability partners to each other. A life-saver.
There's only one problem about him.
He's an aspiring videogame developer and Computer Engineering student.
Two problems actually.
He wants us to become a team, me being the scriptwriter and perhaps tinker (given my current knowledge) some soundtracks.
So he (unintentionally) planted doubts in my almost certain decision to study a trade (Grado Medio). Specifically, I told him about my translations here (actually I've been translating now and then since very young) and went all enthusiastic about it. Perhaps a bit too... pushy. In fact he wants me to be some kind of translator/community manager of some sort. Those doubts created me a sense of uncertainty and fear and everything went to shit. A shit he then proceeded to help me clean.
So it's kinda contradictory. What should I do about him? He's my best friend. He has trouble understanding my detox but he's respectful nonetheless. But his constant chatter about games it's not exactly helpful or relaxing. He can't help it though. After all, we're supposedly making a game together...!
[My secret research (not so secret, "low profile" more accurately), is going better than expected. I was overreacting when mentioned PTSD. I just have to be careful, at least that's my current assessment. But I have great expectations about it. This is going to be fun.]
- "Fixed" activities:
- Dancing classes
- Drawing classes
- Theatre rehearsals (until April)- Scheduled activities (with my friend):
- Drawing
- Translating
- Preparing English Test (at least B2, perhaps C1 but I think that's still beyond my level)
- Programming (I MUST learn to make Visual Novels I swear to God)
- Learning to make music using computer programs
- Watch anime and series to find muses to draw (in anime) and perhaps good arguments and tropes (in series).
- Bit of exercise (Gym)- Still un-scheduled:
- Driving license (may be done with my friend as well in our "work time" together)
- Writing (must be done alone because personal preference, still not sure where and when)
- Weekends
- Leisure activities (sometimes alone, sometimes not)
- Among leisure and perhaps writing, going outside. I found a great spot in the city walls where you can sit and have a great visual of the beach and the sea (and even the archetypal fort, lovely!), while also being covered of the sun. Needless to say, I'll try to go there often. Now is calm, with few people, nice, slightly cool weather... exactly how I love it. Perhaps I'd like it a little more cool but still pleasant.Things look bright, actually. I'll fuck up some (or many) more times but I think I have the grasp of how's it done, life management and all the jazz. But I still don't know what to do in the mid-term; and this friend of mine and his games...
-
Just like the first beer after a long abstinence tastes off and not that intriguing, going back to games may feel boring at first.
Congratulations on that. Pls report how it goes. But I don't understand how is it possible to be the only man there ... yet not speak to anyone. Surely the girls were interested? I just can't imagine that scenario.
It's common among gamers to have an aversion to physical activity, but it that doesn't seem to be your problem :3.
I feel you there, SO MUCH, I almost fell for the "boring" trap. I could sense how it was more and more appealing to play just to shrug off boredom (if that's even a verb/thing). However I'm clean again, this week was over in a breath. So even if I'm still struggling with filling the void, keeping myself away from games is becoming easier. Excellenciousness!
Perhaps they were too shocked to see me? 80% of students are recent retirees so the generational clash is huge. And it was just the first day so it's not so serious. I couldn't go this week because family issues (Grandma has begun to literally run away when no one's home). On tuesday I'll go anyway, "y que sea lo que Dios quiera".
I have nothing against physical activity. Just normal laziness and a fair bit of self-consciousness with my body. It's just about being too thin and frail, so I can always solve it with sport and nutrition. And that is hard. Really. Losing weight must be a bitch (I'll probably never know), but keeping in your healthy figures is equally tough no matter where you come from.
be in continuous trouble because of clerics and women, drink heavily, heroically kill dutchmen, starve and be poor, perform selfless acts of sacrifice or even fight former friends for the sake of some corrupt, retarded and undeserving aristocrat
And also clerics. How does one get in trouble with clerics?
At least you have a penis. Imagine a life without having a penis.
*GASP* (No offense)
Yeah, and I though I was cool for taking walks and considering bodyweight exercises. Meanwhile, this guy is fencing and dancing flamenco.
And I still can't push myself into taking walks or even considering bodyweight exercises. Score is even.
I think going jog for 10-20min every day is on of the best habbits I created for me. Keeps me gooing and has riple effects on other areas of my life( I like to think about nutrition now for example, I sleep better too)
I think you're absolutely right. Staying inside everyday is becoming increasingly unbearable. The day will arrive when I'll go for a jog too, and it's quite near. I'll update on it when I finally do it, but I feel it will be a great decision.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
- Day 34
Quick update. Week was a bit chaotic. Failed some habits. Making a schedule has become an absolute must. I'll try to stick to it next week, then update again. I had a conversation with my best friend about my role as volunteer translator and he was fully supportive, filled me with determination. So now translations are advancing steam-powered (and not Steam-powered, hah).
I think I made a HUGE breakthrough in my quest towards identity. Not the spaniard stereotype, I mean my inner, most fundamental self. It's highly introspective, private, confidential, probably dangerous to my mental wellbeing, but the potential applications of this new line of research are... intriguing. And thrilling! I can't wait to obtain and measure the first results, even if I can share virtually none of them.
obtain and measure
As if I was my own little science project. DIY psychological survey, one person only. Isn't science lovely? Some people dabble with drugs, I dabble with PTSD. Is something wrong with me, I wonder...?
-
- Day 26
It couldn't last. After a terrible week full of terrible feelings and avoiding everything and everyone, I had a relapse. Or maybe I should say "Introspective analysis of the effects of gaming in my cognitive processes".
I expected to sink in weeks and weeks of gaming to no end. I've spent some good hours with several games for several days and suddenly realized something.
I wasn't going to bed late. I wasn't waking up early to play. I was playing for a while, eating "normally", then playing for a while, but also listening to music, watching TV or Internet silliness. I wasn't absorbed as I used to be.
I was bored.
Bored! I was playing, yes. I was having fun, yes. But I was fully aware of myself. My situation didn't change. I can't disconnect anymore with games.
So, I'm here again. Now the only thing I can do is to move forward and try new things, because games won't do for me anymore. I can play, but I realize I'm wasting time. Not because gaming is not an acceptable pastime, but I feel I'd rather be doing other things. That's awful. Awful, you hear me!? Now I have to do stuff!
It was bound to happen. I guess is a huge step. Now I know games bore me. And social games are meh, so perfect. Really, I'm in a very advantageous situation. I mustn't underestimate the influence games still have over me, but I think I won this round.
Today is holiday here, so my theatre rehearsal was yesterday. I wanted to explain my sudden absence the week before but I was too focused in making a good impression and time just flew. A great success, I dusted off the bad sensations of previous days. It was already settled, but still I made clear I'm the star there, hah!
I went to collect my Secondary Education Degree, after six years waiting for me in my school. "His Royal Majesty [...] hereby grants...". Such grandiloquence. Like knighthoods of old. We haven't changed at all, us humans. Anyway, one of the most irritating chores I had on the list, done.
I was so bored this week, I went and tried something I had on mind for some time now: flamenco dancing. The past me would be outraged. That calls for some insight.
When I was little I was basically a stuck-up asshole. Everything gave me what we would call "vergüenza ajena", or Fremdscham in German. Basically, anything artistically related, dancing, singing, or culturally rooted would give me the creeps. I couldn't stand all those fucking peasants worshiping their peasant traditions. Or children in contests. Or anyone trying to be innovative, especially if business-related. I still can't, they're full of crap, pretentiousness and are basically posers. But I missed many chances of having fun, making friends and being a healthy human being, and I couldn't tolerate that.
So I developed the habit of trying things I'd find the farthest of my perceived identity. "The last thing I would picture me doing". The first one was theatre, and I couldn't be happier with that decision. Seriously people, go out of your comfort zone. Worst case you'll have some laughs. If you're doing something you think you shouldn't be doing, how could you end being disappointed? That's your little ego crying out, I know it too well. You have to be a pro from the start even in things you think you don't like or aren't your natural element. See the fallacy?
So there, I went and tried. Of course I was the only man in the whole academy. I did terrible. I talked to no one. Everything in my personal manual I could do wrong, I did.
And somehow I had a great time.
I went home and for once I wasn't thinking about quitting. Maybe the next month, but not now. So, for the next days at least, I've found something I don't need to be good at to feel fulfilled, because it's so unlike me, even being decent would be an astonishing and improbable scenario. A really pleasant one, for the same reason.
Who knows, perhaps I'm at the gates of being an awesome dancer just because I'll practice a lot only for the laughs and master it without being aware. Sounds totally like me. Not the best example of personal development and self-management, but if works, to hell with it. I won't be picky.
AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY, IT'S ANOTHER STEP TOWARDS BECOMING THE PERFECT SPANIARD STEREOTYPE.
Why would I ever want that? Who knows. I find the idea absurd. Laughable.
PERFECT.
And I do since I was really little. Perhaps I should seriously go for it. Even if it's completely nonsense. If life's goal is to be happy, and I seem to be happy pissing on ideologies, traditions and sociocultural constructs, then what else could I do? I was born that way.
So,
TO DO LIST TO BECOME THE PERFECT SPANIARD (STEREOTYPE)
1. Theatre: In progress.
2. Fencing: In progress. I have basic skills and took lessons but had to quit because my terrible physical condition. I'll start again as soon as I can. Then I'll go for historical recreation.
3. Dancing: In progress. Flamenco, sevillanas and pasodobles, at least.
4. Singing: Several folk styles. Fondly despised by the nationals. Fondly because it's an ambivalent feeling.
5. Bull-fighting: I absolutely refuse to kill a sentient being for the amusement of some peasant fascists, but I can still learn the technique. It will do wonders for my posture, strength, and popularity if I travel abroad!
6. Sailing: Obviously. Comes in hand with 8.
7. Poetry: Sonnets. SONNETS! And some Romanticism.
8. Religion?: Eugh. Some religious studies (Catholic, of course!) and insights. Extravagant idioms and expressions. Visit many, many churches.
9. Languages: Catalan, Basque and Galician.
10. Traditions: Football, Ferias, Holy Week and Carnival for my own region, and other regional traditions from the overall territory.
Bonus: Looks. Which looks? I must ponder it more deeply.
Some people want to improve in life. Find a job. Find love. I just want to be entertained. Maybe I should be playing.
Tfw you wanna be Lope de Vega but end like Quevedo
-
I discovered the detox is on since February 1st, so it's going to be easy to keep track from now on
I wrote before "not going to be hard" and changed it. I have to start thinking, talking and writing in positive terms.
- Day 19
Friday... before morning. Thursday night but technically Friday, you know. What does my detox stand for? I've been clean for more than 19 days and yet I haven't made an specific goal to accomplish at the end of these 90 days. I think the mere fact of being aware you've decided to detox can be enough, as Cam usually says, to at least think about the current situation and visualize a life without games. Fair enough, but still feels a bit... the word is not "empty". Perhaps "too general". Like, I'm just sitting here waiting for something to happen.
-> Specifically, I've been completely clean for 29 days, and I'm absolutely sure hours played in all of January don't exceed 25. They must be around 20.
-> And Steam-clean since... Oh my god! December 15th! Which means that, except for 2 hours of a free VN I sometimes read, I haven't touched ANY Steam game for 16 days plus ALL of 2016 so far! Whoa, I didn't expect it to be so much time. That makes... 65 days!! Astounding. Now I can understand why cravings have been so intense lately.
But I still waste all my time doing nothing at all! Literally laying on the couch all day. Except for two days of rehearsals and one day of drawing class. 6 hours plus let's say 4 hours of related activity (getting ready to go, going, returning home...) makes 10 hours. I'm busy 10 hours a week. Rest of the week laying on couch. Many times sleeping on the same couch. Practicing for the coffin, huh? Completely unacceptable!
Such shamefur dispray bring great dishonor...!
Ahem. So here I am, for example, 4.35am right now. That's the perfect example of not having a standardized and proper time management. And I still waste a LOT of time watching game film or general idiocies. The price I usually have to pay to avoid a detox usually is 2-4 hours of watching others play, or stupid videos on YT. Or, well, writing a looooong journal post, like now. Worth it, even more now that I know it's been 65 days. Wow, 65 days. I could write it again and again and still sound so alien.
My social life has plummeted, I lost contact in these months (September-February) with almost every single friend.
I've been the one hiding, ashamed of my idleness and lack of direction. And going out, except when projects-related, has been an extremely unpleasant, stressful and unsatisfactory activity, for reasons I detail below:
My social interactions work like this:
1. I can't talk about myself, so I remain silent, just enjoying the company and surroundings. People always end assuming I'm not having a good time. They repeatedly ask if I'm alright or bored. Hm, perhaps there's a cultural clash here. For the average southern spaniard is very, and I mean very uncanny to be around silent people. I talk plenty myself (that may be an added reason for their insistence), but always with a message in mind. Unlike many fellow countrymen, I daresay...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the way, do you also get the impression I talk and make references about my country a lot? I wasn't aware of that. Maybe it's curiosity I feel about other cultures which makes me want to share plenty of things and thoughts about my own, subconsciously expecting others to act the same way in turn. And an inappropriate and childish habit (I admit) of making fun of others countries with an endless stream of stereotypes, intertwined with a bigger, more general, and even more childish and inappropriate habit of "poking" and teasing people with sensible topics.
I'm also greatly interested in learning stereotypes about Spain, since 99.9% of jokes, criticism and hate I hear about us comes from the inside. Your help is crucial and would be extremely appreciated!
That's probably the primary reason why we can't have nice things and into space or economy, @Marchosias, being spaniard means being raised in 400 years of continuous victimism, defeatism, and ignorance of our own history.
"[Our history] mainly held and recorded by britons and (chauvinist) fascists, both traditional enemies of our peoples [...]".
Spanish histrionic victimism at its finest. Quote by Arturo Pérez-Reverte, author of the Capitán Alatriste book saga (adventures of a fictional and therefore stereotyped 17th century dashing anti-hero, doing most spaniard things, like be in continuous trouble because of clerics and women, drink heavily, heroically kill dutchmen, starve and be poor, perform selfless acts of sacrifice or even fight former friends for the sake of some corrupt, retarded and undeserving aristocrat... being a spaniard, in a nutshell.
And of course the magnificent, absolutely not mexican moustache, the long, absolutely not mexican hat, the cape and the sword.
S-sorry about that little, petty genocide, dutchmen
(I'd say it was in good faith but...)
Certainly not the best country to start a business or quit an addiction. Egad! I could research about how the different cultural treatment of failure affects the recovering of addictions! It's been already researched how it has affected our economy (For example, a north-american is more encouraged to be independent and enterprising while here work abroad, leave the family behind or start a business was broadly regarded as a bad idea; or northern europeans having worse weather and therefore gathering less, becoming less gregarious but more diligent). And since in my culture "to lose" generally makes you a "loser"... Double egad! The potential social and psychological implications are both fascinating and terrifying!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AS I WAS SAYING, excuse me...!
2. I talk about the only topic I'm confident enough, my problems. Talking about hobbies leave me the impression I'm avoiding the main concern in my life, achieving a purpose. I feel I'm fooling myself and even if a had plenty of hobbies, (not the case currently) I'd still feel uncomfortable talking about them. So, my problems. People do their best to empathize and while I'm grateful, precisely that's why I don't want to bother (and bore) them. More. Anymore. It creates a negative, pessimistic aura around me.
3. A few people even bring the subject on the table before I have the chance of talking (and driving it off), delivering a long argumentation usually appealing to feelings and dramatic existentialism ("Time is merciless, you must hurry...!") to urge me into choosing a path, generally artistically related (writing, acting...). And I end up feeling like shit afterwards, as you can imagine. Happened yesterday and I'm still affected. Probably happening today as well.
Pleeeease, gimme a break...! I guess now that I've SOMEWHAT made a decision and SOMEWHAT feel I have a direction I can always meet new friends or even the old ones without feeling out of place, but stoically refuse to talk about myself, how I'm feeling or my past. So questions "How are you feeling?", "What have you been doing lately?" "What are your plans for...?" or the dreaded "What do you do?" are banned. How could anybody hold a meaningful, pleasant conversation on equal terms and keep a healthy closeness with ANYONE under such conditions? It's just ridiculous! It's a dead end.
- Accept yourself and let go
The first: Okay, in the intimacy or closed environments (such as this). The second: Never! People don't give a fuck about vulnerable men. People want strength, confidence, clear-sightedness! I don't want to disappoint you, but showing weakness is the easiest way to lose network, potential works, friends, lovers... which is exactly why I feel so damn bored and weary about being social. I don't feel like playing the game of life. I'm not in the mood.
But I guess I still need to do it? Everything a chore, everything a chore, don't you slack with those oars, oh brave Volga boatmen...
8:00! Well at least now I know for sure it's day 19.
A person I hold very dear in my heart made a drawing of me for theatre, so "work-related" purposes. It's a rough sketch, and she kept saying it wasn't a big deal, but I got instantly drawn to it. It has... something, which depicts me perfectly, better than any photograph up to date (even if they aren't precisely many...). I'll end today's post showing it to you:
Pleased to meet you, I guess...!
-
- Day
1216I finally arrived to this conclusion. I could try my luck in trade learning and if it really isn't my thing I could always finish it (two years it's not so long), change it or even leave it after the first year and try theatre again. I've been wasting year after year doing nothing, I should be ok investing the next one or two actually trying to find my path. I'll be busy doing something in the mornings, which will fill the void of having a purpose. Learning something not emotionally engaging and not of my first tier of priorities, so I won't grow dispassionate or anxious about it. Being social and mentally challenged. And still with time to develop hobbies and other passions (which could include theatre as well). And who knows, I could end loving that trade.
That's the idea. It reminds me of the void projects of the past. But at least this is quite achievable. On the other hand, I hunger for a challenge and this seems like a downgrade. Who am I trying to fool? I can't even do the most basic things by myself! That's why I failed with theatre the first time! My eternal contradiction; I'm never satisfied with anything.
So now I'm left with months of apparent inactivity waiting until classes begin. And cravings! I could spend all these months playing mindlessly. Or, sigh, trying to improve my life. Or half and half, but it would end being the first. People usually feel uncertainty, fear, anger, and I also do, but now I think about the future and I feel extreme boredom. I don't feel like doing anything at all. Not even things I enjoyed a week ago. Nice job breaking it! I mean myself, the detox and the forums are pure awesomium. I'm a veteran, hah! I've never been a veteran in anything. Yesterday I won against an intense craving for Civ. Today I may not be so lucky. I'm not too worried though, perhaps I need a relapse now and then to hit the bottom one or two more times and regain my determination. Or begin building it at least. But I can't shake the feeling anything I do is a wrong choice.
Unrelated: I had a dream about this forum in which someone anonymous was complaining of my presumptuous and terrible use of English. I'll try to improve it even if just in case.
-
- Day 11 (of 90 days of Life Improvement): [EDIT: I SAID DAY 11 BUT I JUST RECEIVED 15 DAYS SURVEY. MFW CAN'T INTO BASIC MATHS]
Days since last game: 25
Days since last VN: Perhaps a week
Days since last Steam game: A lot! Two months probably
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm feeling suicidal again. I recognize it because the idea of cutting my throat with a kitchen knife doesn't inspire fear or rejection, but feels actually plausible instead. Like it would feel if you were thinking about going for a walk and buy some coffee or staying home instead. I recognize the danger to my safety in a non-instinctive way. I mean I have to make an effort to think it's probably not the best idea. Thankfully thinking is easy for me, so it doesn't take a big effort at all. A tired sigh ends it all and the feeling is replaced by a harder to handle but way safer feeling of failure and defeat. I survived another day, yay, but why? It doesn't feel like a victory at all. Not even like a battle. Just a hassle.
I refused to go to drawing classes despite I was so anxious to go I even slept with clothes on. I've been flirting quite successfully with a girl lately, via text, but I couldn't care less. Writing simply doesn't flow. Oh, but at least I finished the first translation of GQ related material, it felt wonderful yesterday. Today, however...
I have the feeling I won't be able to give a fuck about anything until I decide the most important decision, what I'm going to do with my near future. I seem to work that way, I can't focus on minor things until I sort the big ones. But enjoying minor things is key to decide the big ones, so I'm a bit screwed. Everything feels boring and annoying. "Oh, so I need to solve who I am? Yeah, sure, why not, sigh."
thanks for sharing your story!
How does it feel to write all that stuff about yourself down?
You're truly welcome.
It feels terrible, like a hearing at court. I would declare me guilty of all charges. Half of it I was unlucky and the other half I deserve everything. But there's no room for improvement, and that's my fault. It feels like I was gifted with everything but nature gave me a psychological handicap to balance it. Like performing photosynthesis in a high-class restaurant.
After reading your last post, I think you should also consider giving theater another shot. Your family seems to tolerate your inactivity, so I guess time is not a huge issue here; however, you need to keep moving. You owe it to yourself, to your future self.
Making money online is a huge topic; you can have a look at the categories on Fiverr for some ideas.
The main takeaway for me, after reading your story, is that you do strive for something more. You do take action. Yes, there were massive time spans of inactivity, indulging in games and other negative habits, but consider how many people do that and just remain in that state.
You could have started bashing people over the internet for hours, you could have turned to drinking, or you could have joined pages like Wizardchan to complain how women and entire society are unfair and deranged. And perhaps you have at some point, but still, here you are. Flawed, yet striving towards something better.
This Fiverr stuff is awesome! Thanks a lot!
I couldn't become an asshole because of my own problems. At my worst people just seem annoying NPCs. Why would I unleash a shitstorm over an NPC? It's not their fault being there. That's my own view, I understand the reward processes behind hate. Alcohol and drugs? Nah. I have mysterious cravings for the first, sometimes really intense, but I keep them at bay nicely.
Strive, huh. I don't know sir. I really don't know. Sometimes I feel all proud and mighty, deserving, and I act accordingly. Others it just doesn't make any sense, as now. Others I feel I don't want to be a nuisance but even that doesn't push me.
You know... if I'm going to die anyway, there are many times I feel I want to spend my days doing nothing in particular. Meditating. Helping people. Working with my hands, writing on commision, taking care of the environment, watching the clouds. Some kind of monastic or ascetic life, yes. But studying any kind of religion would surely bore me to death. Or perhaps not? And what if I want to do something else in life? Can I study something while in a monastery of any sort? If the answer was positive I'd sign right now.
[EDIT: I was feeling like shit but I saw who is probably the worst journalist in my country (and therefore my obvious favorite) on TV and now I feel strangely invigorated. The motherfucker keeps writing in some of the most relevant media about how women deserve to be beaten because they're sluts, letting your daughter or girlfriend go to Erasmus makes you an instant cuckold, foreigners deserve to die, Deus Vult bullshit and so on. An extremely amusing aberration.]
[EDIT 2: I saw this in Marchosias' Journal and tried my own:
I wasn't expecting that... but seems logical. I guess is the technical definition of
just want everybody to chill for five damn seconds
while being a skeptical bastard. So I'm a thing now? While thinking about it I'll start with the basics: the beard. History teaches us left becomes evil in direct proportion to lack of facial hair.
-
The spanish version of Once upon a December, from Disney's Anastasia got stuck in my head. I declare it "Former post's official soundtrack". I used to hate child's movies as a child myself. I must be growing older and even more melancholic. The lyrics are disturbingly fitting:
SpoilerO' sweet voice
come to me,
make my soul to remember.
I still hear what I used,
Once upon a december.Who embraces me so tender?
I see meadows all around.
All that people, all that bliss
are but shadows to me.All which was
didn't die
as fire which blazes
Will that voice come again,
once December arrive.I still hear what I used,
Once upon a december.My mother watched Goodbye Lenin by my recommendation yesterday and now is being strangely kind to me. She's even kissed me on the cheek by her own accord. Creepy. Tomorrow we're watching Admiral together, and I'll probably indulge in soviet melodramas and junk food by myself. And of course Doctor Zhivago. That's my personal way to devote to the spirit of mainstream romanticism. I'll also try to publish a short text and if I'm melancholic mood enough, read some XIX century french and british poetry. What could be any better than that?
QuoteA qt gf?
You don't understand anything, sigh. -
I can't go to University, I don't have the High-School Degree (Baccalaureate)
Q. Get it then?
A. A fourth attempt? Two years surrounded by teenagers doing something I both hate and find hard? No. Never. Absolutely never.
Q. But wasn't Dramatic Arts a college/university?
A. Yes but no, that's why I could enter. Legislation bullshit.
Day 8...
...was completely wasted laying in bed. Nothing was accomplished today.
On 2/11/2016 at 8:23 PM, Marchosias said:I also think you should give yourself full credit for the amount of time you haven't been playing, but it's your call of course.
Well, yes, I haven't been playing and that's an accomplishment by itself. But my main objective is having a life so I can struggle avoiding letting games ruin it. That's way harder, it takes active action. Quit playing, in my case, takes passive action: /not/ playing. I don't want to downplay its merit. It's just... I know what I mean.
Since I don't have anything to report today and I've been losing focus and motion lately, I think it's...
STORY TIME!
[Cue Sir Michael Hordern's narrating voice]
By what means Hitaru ended in Dramatic Arts and screwed his life shortly after
I was 16 and had just finished compulsory education. My school offered Baccalaureate but decided to transfer schools to that of my "friends" from that moment and flee from many bad memories (bullying during mid-school). Long story short, something awful happened (conspiracy-tier happenings), I lost said "friends", got separated from the rest, quit school and ended in a terrible co-dependent relationship. We supported each other's delusions for two years. Absolute madness. But hey, I'm going to have great writing material thanks to that. I love a good dark story or mindfuck, even if it's based on my own experiences. I value dramatic tension over happiness in my life.
SpoilerLike our dear Marchosias would say, now would be the perfect timing for a middle-aged female psychologist to prattle about me having problems and the like. See how much I care about such assessments, dreadfully worried indeed, huh. I've never tried my luck with a female psychologist by the way, maybe my subconscious is somehow cross-gendered and would be the ideal choice actually...? (Also, could someone explain to me how to tag? Much appreciated!
)
I broke up with this girl and there I was, uneducated, my mind a mess and games as my only company.
SpoilerWAIT! Before I go on. She did not make me insane. No, no, NO! Such a cliché! "Thankfully" my mind was all messed up before meeting her, coupling with her was just a logical conclusion. She doesn't have that kind of protagonism in my psyche. Please make that clear in my movie.
>Histrionic personality disorder
'scuse me. As I was saying...
The first thing I did after breaking up was taking a (much needed) shower and cut my hair. Then, somewhat similar to Cam, I started to go out, seeking out acquaintances and distant friendships lost in the way. The idea was good but the results were terrible. By the end of 2013, 8 months after the breakup if I recall correctly, it was pretty clear I wasn't going anywhere with that plan. New Year's Eve, my self-imposed final exam, was a complete disaster. A lifelong friend even gave me the cold shoulder because his new college friends found me "a weirdo".
Talking to the same and only person for months had left me scarred, I wasn't even aware of it until I began to go to parties and taking theatre lessons. I noticed how I would stutter and speak in a robotic manner in any social setting, from pure nervousness. At first I couldn't even open my mouth to say my name. It wasn't shyness but something else. I was completely stuck, at a loss for words. Terrifying in hindsight. On top of that, I couldn't (and still can't) answer to the question "What do you do?", since "Nothing" is not a valid answer. Please think about this. When you meet someone for the first time, the first question is always "What's your name", and then of course comes a "What do you do" (in life, what do you study, work, value, etc.). They have the same value. Can you imagine not being able to answer what your name is? It's crippling. An instant defeat. That's why I'm not very fond of social gatherings.
Why theatre? I don't remember when it began exactly. I used to be terribly self-conscious, I hated singing, performing of any kind, child movies, talent contests... but at the same time I had my time as amateur stand-up comedian child. Any way, by the start of my first year of Baccalaureate I was certain I wanted to try. I joined the school's theatre club, led by the principal and also teacher and... it was pure bliss. There was nothing like that in my former school. I... I can't grasp the full extent of it. I was the bullied kid, the weirdo, the failed nerd, and suddenly I got the main role in that year's play right from the start and everyone was praising me for something I couldn't even start to expect of having talent at. Well, I was arrogantly confident in my ability before joining, but it was completely unfounded, a self-defense mechanism. And yet there I was. For the first time it had nothing to do with talent and expectations, I had already left behind a thing or two which I was fairly good at in the past.
It was the goofy smile when I was on stage. It was the hurried lunches with my peers before rehearsals. Being part of a group of equals, even if they were younger, older, smarter, more social, more successful, happier, it didn't matter. It was the shine in their eyes brimming with approval and the spring in my step. It was the anticipation, looking forward to something from the first and only time in my life. I'd like to say "I'd never give up on that even if I was the worst actor in the world", and... I'd be lying. But I didn't need to be the best either and being me that was incredible. I wanted to share my trade, I wanted the applause of course, but I was my main judge and patron, not the other way around. It was about my own fulfillment. For the first time. The day of the premiere was undoubtedly the happiest in my life. Even if by then I had already quit school and was in the middle of the 'Friendspiracy'. Stuff happened later during summer, but that moment wasn't ruined. Nothing could have ruined it. I could have died that day; I wish I did. It felt like everything was already done, what else I had to achieve in life? I didn't care at all.
Back to the nearer past again, I started with theatre lessons both to help my social skills and recover my lost passion. It didn't last long. By November I wasn't going anymore and for the next months I dabbled between void projects, each one exponentially less compelling than the last.
And so March arrived. Probably the 6th. Thursday night. I was reading The Element. There was this british woman who had studied sciences but wanted to be a comedian. Said something about going for what you wanted, no looking back, jumping straight at it. Then something clicked in my mind. I don't know what the hell happened. I just felt I had enough, I wasn't going to spend my life reading about people bragging about their success, even if it wasn't their intention. I wasn't going to be a resented human waste. I wasn't going to grow old at mommy's place.
I packed the book, underwear, socks, a towel (Douglas Adams tribute maybe), a bottle of water and all the money I could find at home, said goodbye to grandma dismissing all questions (It was near midnight, you know the thing elders have with time) and stepped outside. This woman I read about went to London to learn about the scene. I was keenly interested in politics back then, even joined the Socialist Party Youth (which now I somewhat regret, it may or may not work against me in the future), so by "logic" I had to go to the epicenter of the country's politics, Madrid. There I could visit some places and something would happen. Something inspiring. That was the plan.
My first stop, the hospital. My mother was working a night shift. I showed up there and explained to her what was all that about. She looked at me with a mix of tired disbelief and shame. She wasn't in the mood for jokes and I was way too old for that kind of show. I wasn't in the mood too, and so I said: "I'm not looking for your approval, but your assistance. I can go or go back home. If I go back, I'm going to kill myself. I'm already living death after all, it doesn't make much of a difference". I'm not proud of that statement, but I was absolutely sure when it left my mouth. Sometimes I wonder what was that woman's crime to deserve birthing me. Some people have it tough. Anyway I managed to make my point crystalline, she agreed to cooperate and even pay a train ticket to Madrid (quite a handful), but only if I traveled on Monday. Maybe she wanted to buy time, maybe she hoped I would think twice and forget about it during the weekend, like I did with everything else. Maybe both. I don't know about your mothers, but objectively speaking I can't think of a more favorable deal. I could have accepted, go home, then try my luck with everything on my side just some days later.
Except that I didn't. It had to be right now and then.
She fumbled inside her pouch and gave me what little she had on her, 10 or 15 euros. With the 25 I already had it now was 35-40. I couldn't go far with that (I couldn´t go practically anywhere in fact), but couldn't pussy out either. So I went to the train station and was closed, I misunderstood the schedules and had to wait out in the cold from 1:00 to 6:00 ignoring all calls and texts from home and feeling really stupid. I was about to give up when I met a traveler. He asked me about the time of opening, apparently made a misjudgement similar to mine. He was talking in English and was pleased at having found an English speaker the first try (my government will end banning me for this kind of comments). He introduced himself as some kind of Australian-Italian wanderer and asked about my travel. I drearily told him I just fled home and wasn't really sure about what to do next. He said something in the lines of "Well, I was in your shoes time ago" and gave me 20 euros out of the blue. And a coffee. I didn't know what to say, it took me completely by surprise. I should have started crying, but I didn't. I still thanked him profusely. It changed my views on so many things, just like that.
With my current budget I still couldn't go to Madrid, but now I could at least reach Seville. I rationalized the change of plans arguing that the party I was supporting was in power there (only there), and I have family living there, so worst case I had a safe haven, which was much more appealing than the certainty of sleeping in the street. I arrived exhausted and took a taxi to the Party's Headquarters, still hoping for anything abnormal to happen... and it was obviously closed. The city was still waking up. So I looked for a place to have breakfast. I took a turn to the left and there was the Dramatic Arts School. I did the obvious thing. Pass by and ignore it. What did you expect? I had only basic education. I was only allowed to study Baccalaureate or a basic trade. I don't go to shops if I don't have money to buy. I had breakfast and returned to the former street. Pass by a second time. Realized I forgot my bag in the bar. Pass by a third. Retrieve my bag. Pass by a fourth. Still closed. Pass by a fifth.
That's when I decided to enter, for the sake of killing time.It was a restored old building, looking as if taken out from a documentary or a movie with a stereotypical spanish setting. Outright beautiful. You could smell and almost touch art being brewed there. There was an old janitor looking really bored. He greeted me and inquired if I was there to ask about the Access Test. I didn't know a thing about it, apparently was done each year in June, or September if you applied for the Royal Dramatic Arts School in Madrid. I explained my circumstances but he was unfazed. There was another test, a "Maturity Test", and he described it as if I should have known from the beginning. (What's with that name? Since when an exam about Grammar, Maths and English can measure something like "maturity"?). It was aimed for people with at least 19 yo, without Baccalaureate (either NEETs like me or people with job trainings, since the law didn't stated "Baccalaureate or equivalent". And was going to take place in two months. For them it was a legal nuisance, but what about me?
Please summarize my situation. I was completely hopeless, so hopeless to flee my own home, something completely unheard of in my country except for the most extreme dysfunctional families. This whole thing was doomed to tears, either ending up in the street stubbornly refusing to assume my failure or returning home completely crushed for the rest of my miserable life, and everything was my fault. Suddenly one astoundingly improbable coincidence after another led me to be faced with an all-or-nothing situation just some weeks later, and the possibility of having access to superior studies in something I loved that same year. You don't watch this shit in movies. What were the chances? Heaven's Doors suddenly opened and I saw Jesus Christ smiling at me sitting atop his godly Harley-Davidson. The whole situation, the escape and now this, it was surreal. Some of you will say "God's will". Who knows. I can only find it surreal, how my life moves forward only when I act out of despair or simply like a fucking idiot or a madman.
Now you can call me a rip-off artist. You may call Paulo Coelho and warn him about some fucker trying to impersonate him. My conscience is clean as new polished marble. This happened. It happened to me.
The next months elapsed in fast forward. I didn't have the material time to think, and that was just what I needed. Maths were my arch-enemy and one of the main reasons I won't risk both time and dignity trying yet again the damned Baccalaureate. Thankfully I had been taking some classes in the last weeks, since one of my void projects was applying to the Armed Forces. My former theatre school was offering specific courses for the Access Exam. I paid a small fortune for them, taking for granted I would pass the Maturity Test. A daring gambit, but the only choice. Speaking about dramatic tension...! Of course I loved the whole situation, even if my whole life was at stake. It was weird. I felt complete. I cherished the possibility of failing as much as the opposite. It wouldn't have been the same without that possibility. Thinking about trying again next year was unacceptable and the recipe for assured failure. It had to be all or nothing. Exactly the kind of choice I like the most, which explains why you won't see me near a casino.
Breaking down the results of the three subjects, I passed the Maturity test with a plain 5/10. If I required a minimum for each individual test I'd have been utterly screwed. When I saw the results I wasn't happy. I wasn't relieved. I just felt it had to happen that way, as if I knew it from the start but at the same time unable to feel proud at my clairvoyance. As if I were a mere spectator. This feeling would appear constantly from this moment onwards. The Access Exam was an essay about one out of three possible works announced beforehand and something I could describe as an audition. The day of the exam the work was finally declared to be "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof". It was the one I had studied the less, maybe because foreign bias. But the film was on TV the weekend pior and I got the chills the day before, like a premonition, so I studied it like crazy and was fresh in my mind during the exam. Other's weren't so lucky. Still another 5. The practice went much better. Physical theatre and Romeo's monologue were awful, but I saved it with poetry reading, sight reading, Trigorin's monologue (The Seagull / Chekhov) and a bit of singing. That feeling of derealization from before helped me a lot. People were crying, freaking out, puking or bragging, but I was just happy to be there, with an idiotic smile similar to Charlie's in the Chocolate Factory. I got one of the best scores on that, Chekhov's monologue suited me like a glove. So 48 lucky people, and I was one of them.
In summer I met a girl who helped me meet another two in need of a flatmate. She was going to study in my same school. Another improbable coincidence.
SpoilerShe is still my friend, technically,
but she's still studying there and we've grown apart. As fucking usual. People don't give a fuck about you unless you're somebody and therefore do something. Friendships and any kind of -ship are not a fucking NGO.(This feeling no longer applies)[The former paragraph has the Cracked.com seal of approval.] God that site is revolting.September arrived and I was a proud and happy Performing Arts student. Finally, a purpose! Finally, an answer to the question "What do you do?"! My social life skyrocketed. My stutters disappeared. My classmates and teachers were too perfect, as if stereotyped. As if it wasn't real at all. It couldn't be so perfect. I couldn't ask for more.
QuoteI felt Chad as fuck.
Except it was too much for me. I got scared. During that summer I did nothing but play videogames all day, like the former years. My studies required full time dedication and military commitment, 24/7. I wasn't ready for that after years of being a NEET. I wasn't ready to take care of myself. God, my grandma still takes breakfast to my bedroom! I'm fucking disgusting! Useless! Spineless! I completely deserve what happened.
And what happened was the obvious. I played videogames all afternoon, holed up in my room. I masturbated compulsively to relieve stress. I went to bed late without showering and having dinner. I woke up feeling like shit. I started going to class late. Then repeat. Then some day I didn't go. Then another. Then another. Then another. By February again, everything was lost. For the second time I also used fucking a girl as an excuse to avoid classes. There won't be a third. There will be not.
There were several times that my mother had to come and save me, taking me home and forcing me to eat when I was at the brink of starvation and couldn't move by myself. I ended up in the hospital at a point because I had real suicide thoughts for the first time and not just a pessimistic feeling. The night I spent alone in the psychiatric ward was completely nightmare fuel. Until I lost all hope and finally gave up. And here I am now. Back on square one. But even more regretful.
So that's it. That's me. A pampered little fucktard. I can't eat by myself. I can't cook. Everything is done for me. My home is absorbing me. Everything is done for me. My comfort zone is infinite. My skills are none. I only know how to make me and others feel like shit. To complain, to regret, all the fucking time. Ah, and masturbate. Do you get my point? Think about all those africans, all those syrians, all those unfortunate people. Children with chronic diseases. People who were born doomed right from the start. Do you think I'm overdoing it? I'm still right. Think about your own lives. I'm sure most of you didn't have such a chance. It was pinpointed exclusively to me, "Life purpose for dummies". And I threw it to the trash, as if I'll have plenty of those. What the hell I'm supposed to do now, huh? I don't even want to live, even if I don't have the guts to kill myself either. Asking any of you to perform a mercy killing won't work, I'm too narcissistic to let myself getting killed. It's me or nature and I won't. So please, God. Kill me, but don't simply erase me, kill me and put someone deserving in my place. I'm a fucking waste of first-world.
-
- Backrubs
- Funny commercials
- Snow on top of trees
- Walks
[Insert girlish squeals in pop music festival]
Good taste!
-
Unending controversies full of hate with no practical purpose aside from victimism and claiming the moral high ground
Why do americans always make things go over the top? That fight to the death between spiteful female supremacists and not-so-closeted fascists, each one holding the rest of society as hostages. This is why we can't have nice things, people!
At least here in glorious Spain know better: Bad guys won the war (better not talk about that...), government is evil, Spain can't into space, all those commies with dreadlocks are dread-ful (hah) and Everything is Germany's Fault. And no we're not giving back any gold. Ah, life is good in a third-rate country...!
Don't talk to people if you don't really feel like it, but don't give in to isolation either. Introversion in practice is simply a higher need of personal space, any other definition or implication was probably given by an extrovert. Middle grounds work usually fine. Except in medicine, bungee jumping or coitus.
Taking walks even if alone (or specially alone) work wonders for me, if I stay inside for too long my mood begins to drop exponentially. Maybe you should try it too?
-
You seem to be in a bit of a low time (awful English strikes again, sorry), there's been a few posts in a row in that mood. As an expert in the topic (heh) I can tell, it will get better. Then probably a bit worse again, but hey, that's how it goes. At least you're still on the road and that's what matters.
Now you can hit me for being one of those normal extrovert normal people always feigning optimism normal normal. I'd do it in your place. Nah, I was serious about it, stay positive man.
Everyone was having a great time here with their problems and shit and then sexuality and intelligence theory showed up. Wait. What do you mean by...:
As a female
Noooooooo girls have the coootieees!
-
It's great to take care of relationships but don't see it as a chore, don't chastise yourself too much about it, just try again and seek involvement of those you're trying to get along too!
Have a great afternoon! Keep it up!
-
"Officially" I'm at day 7, even if I haven't played at all since January 21. But the mindset is different, so yeah, day 7.
- Day 7:
Today I have planned to spend all the day with this developer friend of mine. I've been thinking about it and decided to try go to the bar and order a coffee. If I end relapsing it will be exclusively my fault, and caused by my explosive and self-destructive feelings, but not of the games for being there.
I'll give you an example. When my uncle quit smoking there was a wedding the week after. In weddings it's traditional to smoke a cigar. Everyone asked him to make an exception but he rightfully refused. And so everyone else smoked and frowned upon him, and yet he kept his resolve. Would be the proper choice not assist to the dinner when he knew beforehand this would happen? In my case I'm taking a more active role, let's say I'm lighting everyone else's cigars, but I get the same amount of cravings when people talk about games or watch games in the news or in social media. And people talk about games a lot. Helping a dear friend and being productive overpowers everything else. And if I feel like wavering I can always write about it, seek refuge here and detach from that project. I'd take it as a personal defeat though. Even if you (@Marchosias) are (absolutely) right about the whole thing happening too early.
And I THANK YOU LOTS for, despite using the same metaphor, being able to argue your position in such a rational way I have not only listened and thought about it, but also acknowledge the truth of it. Unlike others who don't belong to any forum but manage to shitpost (I'm not looking at aaaanyone remotely close to my same DNA sequence...!)
- About my education (you can't even begin to imagine how foreign those words sound in my head):
I want to be in Theatre School, but being completely honest, what I miss is the experience, not the prospective job opportunities. I want to learn acting and I want to act, but I don't want to be a full-time actor. I knew that before enrolling the first time and my opinion hasn't changed since. So learning a trade would be my best shot right now. It doesn't look fancy in my CV like a degree, yet I can always fill my dramatic vocation with short courses. I don't like things that don't look fancy but...
There aren't any other trades that interest me right now, even if there are some at which I could fare better by my natural abilities.
How do you feel about nursing?
"Absolutely disgusting".
No but seriously, I could be a good assistant, nurse or medic, even a surgeon, but I just don't like it. At all. It's not the guts, the gore, the instrumental or even the eerie hospital atmosphere (I love it, I remember how I would sneak in closed floors and dark corridors when I was a kid. Maybe I still do). I don't dislike that world, the same as I don't dislike... agricultural engineering, for instance. But it's not my path. Unless we're talking about helping in conflict zones. Otherwise nah. I want adventure. Maybe I'm young and idiot.
penises
We're so close it sometimes feels awkward. Like a mother and daughter from one of those american or german awful movies of sunday afternoon. Maybe there aren't such movies in your country. If that's the case I'm sincerely glad for you.
Now I'm feeling meeting my friend is a terrible idea. I'll talk to him about it, he'll
surelprobamaybe understand my fear of games is well-founded.hitting the bottom
This would be actually good news; if I could recognize the point where I can't go lower, I could recognize the point where things could go only better. But things could always go worse. Until you set some kind of mental "red line" I guess.
-
goth parties
You mean such a thing actually exists? How I've been so blind all my life...!?
*drama*
- Saturday review:
SUCCESS! All objectives accomplished, Yes!!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I can't remember anything of sunday and monday. I didn't go out and drink so it's worrisome to have such amnesia. My friend is an aspiring game developer and asked me to be his (scriptwriter?). Despite motherly opinion of the idea being "as if an alcoholic started a bar" (I'm still indignant at her and I'll be for a long time), I think it can be fun. I'll be exposed to constant cravings and while they could overpower me avoiding games won't do me any good either. Games and technology are here to stay and I must accept that. I must accept it's me who voluntarily chooses not to play. Saying that felt strangely right.
Speaking of decisions, I have a serious conflict now. Normally I'd just think about it or write it, here or somewhere else and then wait for it to disappear, since most of my problems are temporary thoughts, but this problem here requires an action, carry out a decision and measure its consequences. Exactly the kind of thing I'm terrible at.
Basically, it's February now (three months since first arrival here, oh my...). March is the month when you sign to things. Then you start them in September. Like almost everywhere else in the world I guess. Leaving aside the current education law and other socio-political foolishness, I'm left with two main options:
1. I could try to enter again in a Dramatic Arts school, something I feel I'm completely not prepared to for a myriad of reasons, mental and physical. While it suits me and my general life path I'm not exactly motivated with the idea (if I was I'd totally go for it). Studying acting requires a full set of skills I'd love to master. My soul, my self-esteem and social skills would be thankful. But I would need start right NOW, and dedicate 24/7 to it. Completely not prepared.
2. I could try some Job Training. I'm not sure of the correct translation, here goes by "Formación Profesional". Short studies (2 years) oriented to instruction in a specific occupation. It's socially poorly regarded ("Glorious spaniards no need stinking labor!") and I'd have to swallow a fair amount of pride, but I could have access to basic skills and job options beyond waiter so I won't starve to death no matter what happens in the future. I'm interested in "Operation, Control and Maintenance of Naval Machinery". Ship mechanic, yes.
That's not all of it. Then I could, for instance, join the Navy as Sub-Officer, then study a career while enlisted when I turn 25. THEN I would be ready to do What I Really Want To Do With My Life: Travel and explore the world. And write about it and stuff.
Thousands of things could happen in-between but those are basically my main choices.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SOUR RANT ABOUT PROS, CONS AND BULLSHIT
- I'm completely inept when it comes to manual work and technology, especially if involves maths, but I can't let that be a stigma for all my life, right? When you're bad at something, you'll probably learn more lessons about yourself with those than with things you have a talent for. That's why I keep trying stuff like dancing or partying, so Option 2 would be a fine idea...
- But what if I'm just making up a huge excuse to avoid theatre and facing my inner demons? What if I'm messing all up? WHAT IF I'M GOING TO COMPLETELY WASTE MY LIFE!?
- Mom suggests to go for theatre, or if I'm going for option 2, study nursing assistant for safer job opportunities. Experience indicates that proper course of action is almost always the opposite of whatever Mom says. Unless she's talking about "Things you shouldn't put inside your body" with the notable example of drugs and the (probably; still untested) notable exception of penis ("Stay with girls, old gays need diapers, eww!"). So that's one more point for Option 2.
- Experience indicates that the proper course of action is ALWAYS the first thing that comes to my mind, and I can't remember it! Now I don't know what I'm going to decide, but I'm sure it'll be the WRONG ONE!
- What if by studying something manual I permanently sentence my life to an existence of redneck mediocrity!? God forbid! Excuse my bourgeois demeanour, it surely sounds stupid but it truly terrifies me. I've seen mediocrity up close and I don't want to be that. Poor people not in money, but also (and most importantly) in spirit. People without purpose. Despondent. Angry. Defeated. I'm intelligent and fairly cultured so I know I'll never fall low enough to become one of those... folks. I just need to avoid any kind of addiction. But I also know the mid-class version of it, in my closest family. That means I don't have some kind of family honor to uphold, or maybe I do? Anyway, even if success doesn't precisely run in my veins, abandoning myself to be yet another parasite (that would make three!) is just unacceptable. I (regretfully) don't believe there's a Heaven where Mom will be watching me when she dies, so my concept of honor and deserving belongs only to me. I deserve to be great! Or medium. At least.
-
On 6/2/2016 at 7:47 PM, Marchosias said:
Girls are attracted to men that project the aura of confidence, which is associated with status, wealth, physical strength, etc. But you don't actually need to posses all these things to appear confident. That doesn't mean you have to actively deceive them, but let's just say an energetic loser with a plan is a lot more attractive that a wimpy beta rich guy.
Keep in mind that once you're set in the friendzone, it's difficult to get out. Some would say impossible. That can be fine if you enjoy being friends with girls -- I certainly do -- just be honest to yourself and understand that becoming her friend is the worst and hardest way to her bed.
(However, female friends can help you obtain an actual girlfriend. They generally love to play matchmaking games.)
Actually having all those things is harder and therefore more satisfying than simply displaying great cunning. Better to be rich AND cunning than just cunning. I know too many losers with a plan but no gf. I do my best to keep their spirits up while their plans slowly materialize into something. Semper fi. And I also enjoy being friends with girls, their point of view is totally worth the time. I assume you know about /r9k/ and similar decadent places. The vast majority of those guys have never bothered with listen to a girl for five minutes just for the sake of learning about them. EVEN if women are truly crazy; and they are. But a pleasant kind of crazy. Sometimes.
Friendzone is a social construct, they say. And I find myself quite adept to it. I don't like to flirt in the traditional sense, nor I have the skills or the natural aptitude, so I've assumed that if I ever have a girlfriend again she'll be someone as weird as me, so normal processes of attraction are nullified (actually happened a few times). And that's not a bad thing, I believe. I'll be a bit lonely, but there won't be boring girls!
Female friend playing matchmaking is almost as terrifying as male friend playing matchmaking, by a slim margin. If you want something done right best do it yourself... -
- Tuesday review
1. Go to drawing classes. (MIGHTY SUCCESS, not only I went, but on time for the first or second time since I began)
2. Spend a bit of time outdoors and alone. (Technically I did, the time I spent between going to class and go back home, hah)
3. Not checking the phone during that time alone, or leaving it at home for a bit. (---)
4. Translate for 30 (thirty) minutes. (FAILED)
5. Check on the forum (I left some comments, checked on journals I like, tried to be a bit social, so counts as half success)
Disclaimer: It wasn't my intention to recruit some kind of personal army or something, @Marchosias, just asking for opinion/advice and such.
- Wednesday review
1. Go to theatre rehearsal (SUCCESS, also on time woohoo!)
2. I planned to do it on tuesday, but finally I spent some time with myself. I had some nice insights, but they were mainly abstract, highly introspective in nature so I won't bore you with them. (SUCCESS)
After that I catched melancholy sickness and ended the day early, at 20.00. I got up today at 11.30. I spent the morning writhing in agony with a craving, and now it's time for some plans. I almost gave up, I thought I'd prefer to play a bit and then recover than spending hours focusing in not gaming and being unable to move or act, but I know it's a trap. It's gotten better now so PLAN TIEM!
- Thursday afternoon review:
1. Translate. Even if it's a single word, but do it, for god's sake. (FAILED!)
2. Check on seamanship classes! I heard about findacrew and I think it's an awesome idea! I live near one of the crossroads of the world, so with proper sailing credentials finding a captain won't be a problem. I'd love to give it a try this summer, for instance. Some kind of nautical hitchhiking! I'll also check on some self-defense classes. Someone who owns a boat and travels around the world can mean nothing but evil. (SUCCESS, I'll keep researching this matter, it seems there are some free courses, but probably far away)
3. Check on some dancing classes. I won't give up on my friend yet, but he teaches mainly cuban salsa and clearly it's not my style. (SUCCESS, I talked with my mother about it before going and she asked to check on her behalf, so I also made a good action)
90 days detox oficially starts today! Here are my objectives:
1. No "proper" games. I've got a nice streak already, keep it up and done.
2. No flash games or cheap novels. I'll allow myself to read quality novels for the sake of plot research, limiting the time and only if all daily objectives are already met. I don't think I'll be able to lay my hands on any in three months...
3. No fap. I'll relapse a lot on this one unless I find another way to relieve anxiety. Some sport will suit fine.
Some special conditions must be met if I want not only stop gaming, but also improve my life. As I said before, if I just spend 90 days on the couch, that's basically cheating:
1. No couch. Hah! Now I've done it. It's gonna kill me.
2. No TV or fool around Youtube.
That's the minimum. I won't say what I'll do or won't do. Trying to avoid falling on those two will keep me busy one way or another, I hope. Come on man. Just 3 months. At least one. You can do it. Just 1 single month.
- Friday review:
1. Theatre rehearsal (SUCCESS)
Tomorrow (today) is a great social party day here, Carnival. Lots of people, songs and booze. I don't have anyone to go with and no special reason to go. At first I planned to orbit around my theatre crush so I could make a fool of myself in front of her with my social awkwardness and therefore destroy all my chances and therefore stop feeling the chills when she touches me on stage and therefore improve the overall quality of the play (a much more noble and achievable ambition than getting laid, hah!). I was especially interested in attending the event when she assumed I don't like this kind of stuff just because my general appearance (Have I talked about my pride...?). Thankfully a friend I haven't seen in a while asked to meet so I won't have to resort to that. You might wonder why I'm so sure I'll make a fool of myself. It's a "staged event" in my life, almost identical ones have happened before and the result is always the same. It's simply a trap, now I know it and sometimes I even fancy to humor it for the laughs, but yesterday (and today) I wasn't in the mood. I also learned that she's dating someone already, so all that closeness with me is just friendly. Now I have plan for saturday and no reason to get nervous around her. Double success!
- But Jose, accepting your "friendzoneness", specially when you like the girl, is just lame.
Ah, glad you asked, myself! You see, apart from my particular way of regarding relationships which I won't discuss here and now, I'm fully aware in my current state it would only lead to frustration and disappointment. Girls want to feel safe and currently I can't provide that. That's why talking about your own vulnerabilities with females is the easiest way to befriend them in almost every case. In modern society friendship is more valued than relationships, so they mostly consider a relationship with a former friend as "downgrading their status". And that's the reason behind the sentence "I don't want to ruin our friendship if it doesn't work". When they actually mean it, of course.
Confidence in oneself leads to projects. Projects lead to work. Work leads to money. Confidence + Projects + Work + Money = Safety. Safety leads to girls. Girls lead to increased mental and emotional stability, they have that effect on us males. Safety + Girl + Stability = Family. Family is a cool thing. Easy.
- So you're saying that female attention is just a logical conclusion of a series of factors and previous achievements? And that you can't treat girlfriends and wives in equal terms as, for instance, you'd do with your friends (regardless of gender) since you risk them leaving you when they realize you could experience times of weakness? Unless they're already tied to you in other ways, such as having kids? Isn't that, you know... wrong?
Well, good news is with a positive attitude it's possible to keep a girl by your side, even when going gets tough. And us guys have no problem at keeping a positive attitude, huh?
So basically, care for oneself. Then when you have enough care, a surplus, care for others. Easy!
- So you're implying girls won't give a f*** about you unless you make the first step!? And provide them with enough emotional and economical stability beforehand!?
Erm. Next question.
- For today:
1. Eating well.
2. Translating (Help me based God).
3. Have a pleasant time with my friend.
4. Meditate until this foul stomach ache goes away.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
- Gratitude journal:
1. Mist/fog. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I feel so related to it. Most people regard them in negative terms, and they can be troublesome, to transportation for instance. I don't and love them with all my heart.
2. Robot Chicken. Their jokes are like sushi. When bad they can kill you, when good it tastes like Heaven.
3. Being able to shower any time I want. I'd go craz(ier?) if I couldn't. Clean mind in clean body.
4. Being able to talk to girls without spaghetti. My 11 year old self feels so fucking proud for that.
5. STILL WINTER YAY!
(Bonus) This friend I'm seeing today. I'm absolutely sure our conversation will be meaningful even before having it.
-
Deserving is linked to the concept of ownership. In my opinion, you (us humans) don't deserve "anything", as you don't own anything given your temporal condition. Which is not the same as saying you deserve "nothing". You don't have to do anything in life if you so want. In the most extreme case you can even end it whenever you want. Society keeps telling us we have inherent responsibilities, and we commit to others throughout our lives.
You accept the first, you accept to comply to play by the rules. Which is not necesarily a bad thing, society has its cons but many pros too.
And you ultimately choose the second. Even if you thought it was a good idea and were pitifully wrong. Even if you were drunk.
So assuming everything has a value set of 0 (personal notion you can always disagree) you can arbitrarily set a value for your actions and ambitions. Which is absolutely great! It means wanting something is good reason enough for deserving it. Why would you give something you REALLY want any value less than infinite?
For some people it even means keep others from obtaining it or take it from their hands. I guess you won't be part of this group, but even then their actions would be logical (albeit ethically questionable).Stop feeling guilty, it's only your mind playing tricks. You deserve to want. If you want, you deserve.
Thanks for the "perfect day" exercise, I'll try it!
-
Well, yuppie or not, I think he's primarily a man who's trying to pay his bills. It's actually advised to take a break from what works and write what you want regularly -- it's either this or stop writing completely for a week. But that hurts even native writers, yet alone a slavshit like me. Be happy that your language is spoken by a relevant part of Europe, more than half of America, and probably a few other places. I plan to spend the rest of my life being pissed about how irrelevant mine is. A man is nothing without a mission.
Interesting ... my dreams often include school, too. It generally tends to be about deciding about whether to go or now; I almost always decide not to then wake up and realize I didn't have to go there for almost a decade. I also dropped out of various schools repeatedly 'till I just went to work. I don't regret it at all (that's one of the things I actually don't regret) since, uhm, I now know I can't learn anything while other people are around. Or if I'm not very interested in the topic. So that rules out finishing high school, ha.
You have a point, if I want to make a living from my writing I'll have to combine both commercial and "personal" content. The question now would be "Do I want to make a living from writing?" How far I want to take it?
You're right about the language I guess. You can still be translated, like the Swedes, but it's true it'll be harder. Slavs (and not just russians) are cool imo, I don't understand such hate. Or hate in general. Multiculturalism and the sort is mighty fine by me, but I'm not one of those SJW out there. I'd just like everyone to chill the fuck out for five damn seconds.
I don't usually like cramped environments, or should I say noisy environments who were not intended to be such. Or should I say buildings full of teenagers. But I can't shake off my mind I missed some kind of young experience I won't be able to retrieve or emulate in the future. Or is it only anime bias? Damned high-school moe grills.
- Monday review:
1. Draw for 1 (one) hour. (FAILED)
2. Write for 1 (one) hour. (FAILED, but I wrote a little bit)
3. Translate for 30 (thirty) minutes, as Cam suggested. (FAILED)
4. Since my teacher delayed our drawing lesson until tomorrow, it's the perfect moment to start going to the driving school with my friend. (FAILED)
5. Go to bed early. (SUCCESS)
Thoughts: I guessed I wouldn't be able to do it and well, I was right. But I did something I had on my list since long: Watching a movie of Jodorowsky. I have the
badgood luck of having some cultured friends thanks to my recent wanderings in young artistry, and his name was repeated several times. I couldn't allow myself to stay behind. I started by watching "The holy mountain" and now I can say the proper course of action is to change friends...Anyway, it was a success in the meaning I watched a film, and therefore made an attempt to recover one of my lost hobbies. I hope it'll serve as spearhead for future undertakings. But I have the feeling I'll need several attempts to get enough momentum until I welcome cinema and other arts (mostly literature) again in my life.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
VERY IMPORTANT:
I joined the 90 days detox! Or so I think. Knowing my computing skills probably I didn't. Asking Cam will solve the mystery. I get the impression my main struggle will not be related to avoid relapses, but get my life on track.
What's the point in quit gaming if now I sleep or watch dumb TV all day? Better be gaming instead. So my objective is to get things on track. Not back on track. On track, for the first time.
PERHAPS when I have some daily consistency the cravings will get intense. Perhaps I'll think "Well, now I got things somehow sorted out a bit of gaming won't hurt". Perhaps that'll be a terrible mistake. But that will be a future problem, more pressing matters await.
I'm going to need some help with this stuff, but how? Where to start?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
- For today:
1. Go to drawing classes.
2. Spend a bit of time outdoors and alone.
3. Not checking the phone during that time alone, or leaving it at home for a bit.
4. Translate for 30 (thirty) minutes. It's going to be a daily objective from now on, until I complete all the work.
5. Check on the forum and such for advice and further discussion of the VERY IMPORTANT segment of this post. It's going to drastically influence future developments.
Bonus: Write or read for a bit.
-
How about Transexual Transylvania, hmm? Wohooo, songs, debauchery and BDSM lingerie! I think I once saw a documentary about russian neo-nazi trans gangs. I'm not sure if it was a joke, Internet these days... since always, actually.
90 days detox, yes! I'm also going for it, let's do this!
-
There actually is a very specific thing that work in "erotica" (written porn), and 50 shades hit the jackpot. Anything that doesn't cover a set of very specific kinks is not likely to sell, look: No pictures but kinda NSFW text. Don't show to grandma.
Care to give an example of your nightmares? I've had one myself recently, but it was rather dull (yet still effective).
"Good morning, I'm a guy writing porn for bored and sexually inhibited housewives and middle-aged men with mom or daughter issues. I make a shitload of money, and I haven't even started to talk about my millionaire friends. Exploit and marketize stereotypes. My life is fuckin awesome. Did I mention shitload of money?"
By all the Heavens, Marchosias, what did I do to you to deserve this? WHY? He is exactly everything I dislike, the XXI century yuppie! Even his looks are obnoxious!
Still, he has an interesting business model and knows his trade, I can learn a thing or two. Or three. Let's be open-minded before falling in prejudice. Even "nonconformists" need to eat.
My nightmares usually involve a school setting, old classmates, happy experiences that then shatter, cruel twists and psychological torture I store for future written fiction. Usually related to my feeling of failure and regret for dropping out school after school. Sometimes I die and/or get killed and it hurts as if real until I wake up, seconds later. There are others more "psychedelic" in nature but those are way harder to explain. If I remember to write one I'll share.
- Update: I went to bed the moment I sent the last reply. It's February 1st, 10am. With my sleep schedule again on track, and being Monday, it's time to make some plans.
For today I compromise myself to, AT LEAST:
1. Draw for 1 (one) hour.
2. Write for 1 (one) hour.
3. Translate for 30 (thirty) minutes, as Cam suggested.
4. Since my teacher delayed our drawing lesson until tomorrow, it's the perfect moment to start going to the driving school with my friend.
5. Go to bed early.
I want to add thousands of things but I know the catch. Instead of saying what I did, I'm going to say what I'm going to do, the barest minimum, then report then repeat. I'll trick my pride to feel compelled to do what I say I'll do to avoid writing how I failed to do it day after day. Maybe it's unwise, but if it works it'll be a huge step.
- Gratitude journal (it's been a while!):
1. This forum and its inhabitants. You make me feel part of something.
2. Winter. I hope it lasts.
3. The opportunity to watch a wonderful sunset by the sea everyday. I keep staying at home when I know I need some time alone with my thoughts and the scenery.
4. My mother, for so many reasons I can't even begin to enumerate if I really want to get anything done today.
5. Friends and people I know who still care and approach me despite being so detached since Theatre fiasco. -
- Things I want to say before I forget
1. This forum is so huge! There's so many interesting stories and many skills people have I don't have a single clue what they are about. I'd like to follow everyone's development, but it seems like an overwhelming task. Also, writing in another thread feels like I'm entering (or rather, trespassing) on someone else's home. I feel much safer here, in "my" bubble, answering people, but I'd also like to comment on their journals, encourage them, or just say hi. Strangely enough, I'm much less shy in real life. The whole thing makes me a bit sad.
2. I went to bed some nights ago thinking about a Theatre School classmate for whom I find myself annoyingly infatuated (is that even grammar my god). While wondering if I should call her despite the time passed I had a sudden craving for Civ IV. I said before that I'm not usually bothered by cravings, and should they happen the logical thing would be for my favoured games like EU IV. It's true that I sometimes have cravings for games I haven't played for some time, but it was also some time I haven't thought about this girl, so I found the coincidence amusing. One infrequent craving led to another.
I think I also said before that masturbating lead me to gaming (but not the other way around, weird). I was thinking about her, not "thinking" about her. I find the idea unpleasant. Crushes are a very platonic thing for me, almost an artistic matter. I know, it's a typical psycho villain phrase. I'm talking about girl crushes, which are larger in quantity. Boys, however...
Why do I keep spitting personal stuff?
2.1. I saw the Accountability Partners thread. Cam said something about staying safe. I've thrown enough info about myself to be easily tracked down to practically my home. Am I unsafe then? I'm not worried about getting killed like John Lennon, that could happen anytime anywhere. And there are much more interesting people to kill. (But what if I end up being a prominent person?) Breaking into my house or abducting me for a ransom is also not recommended, you'd end highly disappointed. The most realistic threat would be tarnishing my reputation, and I have an absolute defense against that:
I don't have any secrets. Not a single one. And everyone knows it. Sometimes I feel I'd like to keep some things for myself, but I can´t help asking for advice, or an opinion, or turning the slightest thing into a debate and seeking answers and all posible viewpoints. Just the way I am, I guess. I'm not the naive type and I can keep my mouth shut, it just comes to things people don't usually say. My deadpanning was legendary back in the day. "Yes, I think it would be nice to go out with you, but I can just assume you find me unattractive, cry for a bit then carry on as normal; I give it two months of letdown". I'm not a weirdo. T-that kind of weirdo. Anymore. Most probably.
3. That same night I had a nightmare which later became a weird dream in which I successfully fought off a massive craving for Rome TW. (See, a logical craving, my childhood friend!). I'm currently remembering my dreams as if they were real happenings and I find the fact interesting albeit slightly worrisome. I've never had dreams which I didn't know they were dreams, but now not only is distressing during the dream itself but also the most plausible little details are starting to mix with actual memories. I don't really think it's dangerous, perhaps could end being a little embarrassing at worst. Maybe I should start a handwritten "dream diary" on my own.
- Mood status
Neutral. Yesterday was terrible, probably one of the worst days I remember (I'm only talking in terms of mood), and Friday was also bad. These last few days I've been mostly lying in bed or the sofa, eating almost nothing, sleeping or being drowsy and dizzy all day long, having insane nightmares and completely unable to sleep at night. I even had to flee a supermarket leaving my mother behind moments before passing out. I must be sick with melancholy. Like Don Quixote. Is there a more spanish way to die, aside from in battle against protestants? (Or against muslims. Or against the French. Or against other spaniards...)
However, the average trend was very positive and the forecast is on the rise (See News), and my mood is improving while I write this. It usually works the opposite, I don't know what to expect.
- News
I finished my first text!!! The first... thing... I've ever finished! I've also published it on the internet. The reception was satisfactory. I can't wait to write more, but I got a bit obsessed lately and decided to take it easy. I don't think I'm ready for long novels yet, whatever their content, so I'm sort of practicing plot developments and descriptions with short to medium length erotica (and for my personal amusement).
About writing erotica. "Erotica" in a literary sense is actually used as a sort of euphemism for short (e-)books that are more or less porn. Smut. Describe people, describe locations, create some bullshit conflict, resolve it by sex, the end. And it sells like hell ... to women, this is basically what porn videos represent to men, and they consume it in a similar degree. They just don't talk about it. (It's not like us men often discuss our porn habits either. It's simply assumed.)
Now, it's true that women also read erotic novels which include things like actual story and character development. Both are very popular. There is money to be made in both fields, so perhaps you can look into it a bit (novels ultimately earn more).
Yes and no. Times are changing, my good sir. I can sense it. Porn is now a consumer product, a complete joke. It's dull. Boring. Industrialized. Unsatisfactory. Sexuality will become a form of art, something that will be discussed and debated beyond therapies and groups of swingers and other debauchees! *cue evil laugh* And it will begin, as always, with literature. It's an unexplored realm, and, why not? it would be great to try to be some kind of weird avant-garde on that field instead of watching my brethren misled by bullshit like "50 Shades of Grey". I don't even have that interest in sex, it's more an odd intellectual challenge.
(Or we'll fall in another decade of obscurantism, my works and author becoming outcasts until some group of rebellious well-off students romanticize them many years later).
More things, I went to all my classes and rehearsals. Good. I'm steadily improving in my drawing. Better!
- Daily complaint
I still feel like I'm wasting my time. Empty. As if these things were nothing but petty hobbies, distracting me from the main objective. An unknown objective. Is there truth in it or just a guilt trip?
It's 3pm and sleepiness is killing me, I'll just send, then edit or post again another time.
-
Well first of all I would say your right about the selfish motivation. But if helping and beeing nice feels good this is awesome! You dont need to be a freakin selfless saint to do Stuff, wich your moral do label as good. It is more rewarding to be good then bad for me and it will make me more content with my life and happier( By happiness i just think about a level of satisfaction in my life, not about that imaginary endless state of feelinggood wich doesn't seem to be worthy of achieving).
If i ask myself why do i do this, it is because im not happy at the state i am right now. To change this, there is only one way(I dont count suizid because it is not a way, it is an symptom): to try to do something different. I just don't believe in religion even if it would be nice if i could ,and that's why i try to improve my life by making it worthwhile. Try not to beat yourself up if you aren't able to get some things done. Selftraining is hard, and takes time.
So you don't necessarily have to be a martyr to sell all the tickets to your funeral and be an overall nice human. I was suspicious already but, those pesky catholics fooled me again! It must be the robes man. Those shiny robes. About happiness and life, I share your viewpoint, but for what I know about myself I fear it will be harder to achieve a general level of satisfaction rather than limiting myself to just rush for some big scores now and then, then being at a downer until the next. And I can already say that tactic doesn't work, neither in marathons nor in life. So I guess the only way to do things is with an acceptable measure of chill, patience and persistence.
I wonder, will I be able to accept things as they come and do stuff for myself? Right now the only thing I can recognize as a legit reason to act (or at least keep breathing) is to not being a burden for my family, and by family I mean mother. And even with that here I am yet. I'm being melodramatic now but if that's the case what will happen when she dies (and why does translator assume I'm female when I say "being melodramatic")? If things don't go as she also melodramatically believes (Like father...), I guess I'll have my own family by then, so there will be more people to care about and keep me going, life being a "jump" from one generation to another until my turn arrives. Oh, so that's why old folks keep talking about family, departed family and not being left alone! Sometimes I say sentences like the last one which sound like cynical jokes, but I used to be really ignorant of the ways of the world, they actually are interesting discoveries for me (most of the time, some are jokes). That's my current stance on the topic, it can always change. Being me, it could change before today ends.
Selftraining is hard, but it's not like doing pushups where you can always do one more. How can you tell if you're doing your best, or slacking off? That self-doubt is the real killer, and it never fades.
Glad you hear you had the urge to cry even though you usually don't; when we hold a lot of emotional tension within us, we need to find ways to release it. When we cry, unless we are responding to a present situation, we are feeling a pain that was already there that we haven't been looking at it and releasing it so we are always the better off afterwards. We are socialized, especially as men, to avoid such a "show of weakness," but you are doing us all men a favor if you cry more often and stop holding on to that bullshit
I know how it goes with the anxiety and panic attacks, this is something I've been dealing with for the last year and it is really scary...fear of being about to die, fear of going crazy, etc. etc. and thoughts spiraling out of control when a panic attack seems to be coming in...learning about other people's experiences with this strikes me with how similar they are! I'm still learning as this is something somewhat new to me, but some of the advice I've found most helpful is from http://www.anxietycoach.com/anxietytrick.html. I could really relate to what he is talking about and it makes sense...basically we go out and start having a panic attack, what is happening is our body is getting tricked into mistaking discomfort (maybe social discomfort) for danger and wishing to run away. We flee home and hide in bed, eventually calm down and we have now tricked ourselves and our body into thinking that "running" and going home and being in bed is what made us be safe, though we weren't in any actual danger to begin with! If instead we allow the panic to come and allow ourselves to feel it, we can train ourselves to realize we can deal with it, wherever it happens to arise, that we aren't in actual danger. Some breathing techniques he outlines on the website are great also. The hard part is breaking the cycle we have been reinforcing
Facing fear and then seeing yourself come out the other end is how we conquer it, and you CAN do it, even if it takes patience. I can only imagine how fearless Cam must have felt by the end of his Ted talk just plowing through those feelings of fear coming over him...even if that is a little different.I am also really glad that cooking is on your list of what you intend to focus on! I wholeheartedly agree that it should be first on the list even if your list is in no particular order
. If you aren't getting the proper nutrition you need, it can throw things like your thyroid out of whack which could be causing your anxiety altogether...basically, our body is our foundation of what we are thinking...someone I greatly respect once told me that the key to happiness is "eating well, sleeping well, and moving your body as it needs." I've been pondering that over the years and I've found a lot of depth to that simple idea.And don't be hard on yourself for how you have treated your body in the past...unfortunately it is oftentimes not even a small part of our education growing up...fortunately our bodies can take an unbelievable amount of punishment even if it REALLY DOESN"T FEEL GOOD! But the sun will rise again tomorrow and every meal is an opportunity to be good to yourself and your body...PM if you would like any simple recipe ideas with what you like to eat and I will be glad to give you some advice, I think a lot about food, I love food
- Damn right; I'll be a little bitch from now on, DOWN WITH FEMALE PRIVILEGE OF CRYING! (actually my case it's "only" a mixture between being 7 parts stoic and 3 socially awkward, but I'll also take that into account
)- I think you're talking about anxiety attacks, the technical term for freaking the f*** out (taking the example of social discomfort leading to "gottagodosomething"). These ones are more like a mental/emotional RKO coming the hell outta nowhere. You're just fine then suddenly "Bang!". But it seems you can counter both with some of those techniques, such as breathing. And perhaps it's not like you're fine, but instead barely hanging on and the first moment you relax it's when everything goes crazy. Like colics! I know those too well... When I said "I stopped playing and all the childhood existentialism returned" the first symptom was the childhood colics again. Maybe it's too much information but it's really distressful and an eventuality to think about, they do have the power to ruin crucial events in the last minute. Somehow it's been a while since the last, maybe a month, but it's also true that I've been dramatically reducing my food consumption. To dangerous levels.
- WHICH LEADS ME TO: Sure! Learning to cook has become more a necessity than a hobby or objective. Mom's always away, and Grandma's cooking is now... unreliable, so basically if I want to get
a propernourishment I'm going to have to do by myself. It had to happen someday, and part of me is glad that day arrived (other one is obviously annoyed, and one more is terrified). Both Grandma and I are terrible eaters, while her children are the opposite (that gene must work like diabetes). From almost birth we despise the act of eating (not flavors, that's about getting used, I mean the act of eating, it doesn't even have to do with cooking or chewing laziness), and we barely feel hunger (perhaps a sharp stomach pain but it's not accompanied by the instinct of eating or the longing for food). We enjoy cooking but ironically not eating. It's not a pleasure but an irritating chore. So I'd be VERY interested in "efficient" recipes. Like astronaut food. Eat and forget. I don't mind if it's dull, it'll be like taking medicine for me, which is actually a bad metaphor since I don't have any problem with any kind of medicine (you must be literally suffering with my words now...). In my defense I'll say I can enjoy a good restaurant and have some culinary taste, but I'm talking about everyday nutrition now.
Just a chore.Progress update coming right away!
-
My tendency of not moving a single finger has paid its toll and I fell ill. You can actually fall ill from physical inactivity, which is kind of contradictory since you can only rest because of the illness but the same rest is hurting you in some way. One way or another, I got away from that circle and here I am again. I went to all my drawing lessons, resumed theatre rehearsals, wrote plenty, and mostly lost time on industrial proportions sorting out my inner crap, still my main hobby. But also I took the chance to follow Cam's advice and spent some quality family time and my relationship with my mother seems to have improved greatly.
QuoteN-not that I'm grateful for it. Or anything.
SpoilerI delayed writing because I didn't write a single word of translation since I said I didn't write a single word of translation the last time, and was ashamed of myself. There's something worse than not doing a job, and it's leaving it half done, and I happen to be a master on the art. The file is just there, on my desktop, looking scornfully at me. It's not, right, it doesn't have feelings, but I do. I'm afraid Cam will ditch my volunteering; funny how I talk about having fears of a possible reaction by someone who can simply read this while I still haven't PMed him, I'll DO IT AND YOU'LL HAVE YOUR TRANSLATION, I SWEAR, it's somewhere at the back of my mind behind a whole mountain of garbage, I only have to make a bit of room to get it. I could really use some kind of mental shovel...
I still have trouble with daily schedules and sleep schedules. And schedules in general. It's the next thing I'll be needing to work on. I have improved very slightly on eating (now I do it at least once a day). Better results are being observed at keeping a proper hygiene and my room tidy, and actually go to the places I said beforehand I'd go. Next things on the list are:
- Helping at home and cooking for myself
- Go out with multiple friends on a regular basis
- Start attending social gatherings again, especially those aimed at young adults which typically involve alcohol and more or less hilarious attempts of getting laid.
- Devoting a fixed minimum daily or weekly time to all the activities I started instead (or at least before) recklessly starting new ones.
- Thinking about how and when to start doing some exercise.
- And actually do it.
- (Bonus) Learn the proper use of words such as 'in', 'at', 'on'... and verbs.
They're not in order, I'll check on Respawn to see if there's some advice about it (AND, EH, TRANSLATING IT BY THE WAY!)
Captain Taru's Log: Out of the Fog
in Daily Journals
Posted
I just wanted to say yesterday I translated 1800 words in two hours of standard work (not hurry, not slacking) while also attending all my other responsibilities at their correct time and I feel awesome for it. I was VERY optimistic about my Respawn completion estimate but at this new pace of work I can end it fairly soon and more importantly, without overexerting. The idea is to build habit, not to make a single-time titanic effort. Unless boss Cam says otherwise.
I wish I could say that I did but... I didn't. I can't trample on his passion like that, it was just bad luck. Or perhaps it had to be that way. It depends on how things turn out on the long term. All good friendships have sharp sides, I guess I can consider me lucky for ours being this instead of something far worse. Unfortunately our personal views on games themselves and how should I take them are complete opposites and tend to clash. ("You don't have to quit cold turkey, that's being too extreme")
Thank you for your feelings!
I didn't realize too...!
Well, it depends of what kind of work you're doing, if you're working exclusively for yourself or are part of something bigger (work out vs. office job for example), if you personally like the task... I like writing and doing various kinds of jobs, even repetitive ones, but I tend to view working as a mean.
For instance: "I'm screwing all this screws to make a cupboard, not just because I enjoy the act of screwing (no pun) and makes me feel I'm doing something useful with my life"
What I find really hard it's to find a higher purpose to things. When you're a kid you go to the beach and build sandcastles. You're perfectly aware the tide will rise and wipe your castle out eventually, you just don't give a crap about it since you're enjoying yourself. Then you grow up and rationalize the pointlessness of the act and most people never build a sandcastle again. They even have the nerve to call it childish.
You know what's the actual thing everyone believes childish? Optimism.
That's life man. The tides of death will eventually come and you'll dissolve in a sea of nothingness. And we're instinctually taught to make a fuss about it. We think we hold a right over our sandcastle just because we made it ourselves, we believe we deserve a cosmic reward for making the effort. Why should it be that way? It's just a bunch of sand molded into a shape, and it's no better than the water which will "destroy" it.
So when people realize they won't be treated in a special way, no matter how much effort put into their sandcastle, they get pissed, they have a tantrum, many refuse to try anything. They believe it's some kind of strike, a retribution, a rebellion against the higher power who wants them to live.
When actually they're just kids
in front
of a sandcastle.
And things would be so simple if we just shrug off everything and get our hands dirty, shaping our very own castles and playing to be kings. At least that childish, optimistic approach would be in hindsight more reasonable than belonging to the bunch of stuck-up assholes with their rationalizations (excuses) trying to be "adults" and sabotaging the universe when, actually, are sabotaging themselves.
- Whoa dude that was so smart, so how about making your own sandcastle too?
Dunno man, I'm currently too engrossed with that fucking huge wall of nothingness coming closer to me, but if I ever get over my own silly self-importance and selfish existentialism I guess I could join you guys. After all you have the best attitude among the possible ones.
I'm almost certain I'll play today. At least I'm gonna try to translate some more and put my social life in order (today's planned task). Sign off.