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Captain Taru's Log: Out of the Fog


Hitaru

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This should have started a lot earlier.

After my first relapse (yay!) I finally start my journal. So it's day 0 I guess. The D-Day. Or the G-Day.

- I've learned some things this week:

- I'm chronically depressed since I was 4. Nice. I'm going to have to deal with it, it's part of my identity.

- For people fearful of death such as me, life is a box whose walls keep coming closer until they smash you. Good news, if there are, you can't properly measure where are those walls (the "size" of the room), so you may establish an "imaginary end" and arbitrarily gauge the room within your own standards. Yes, the famous comfort zone. I've discovered in my case (perhaps some of you too) I have a tendency to shorten these walls when I'm in a state of inactivity, with terrible consequences. I can always do less, including not showering or eating. Or not even getting out the bed. For days. 

BUT, the tendency to shorten doesn't apply conversely. I mean, it's easier to me to shorten more as time goes by and size goes down, but it's harder to make the room bigger as time goes by and size goes up. I think I'm naming this phenomena as the Fishbowl Effect. If you make yourself tiny, your fishbowl will look like an ocean. But what happens if you want to expand the glass? It also happens with currency devaluation. But it's just a temporary escape, a one-sided road.

So my life it's going to be a constant struggle pushing those walls forward until my own walls meet the real ones, and then keep pushing to slow them down with the best of my ability, willpower, immunitary system and luck, until nature fatefully overpowers me and I die, fighting, like a samurai. Banzai! I guess. There's not other option, really. The japanese also have a term for that: "Shikata ga nai". Clever guys.

Several people have stated their disagreement, arguing about some mysterious addictive property that relies in worshiping self-proclaimed achievements, making worthy the act of struggling. Further investigation is required. 

- And I say self-proclaimed, because: 

Theoretically you can do anything you want in life, and therefore you're born free. But the only unavoidable limit (besides taxes, like some prominent rebellious colonist said, if I remember correctly) is death. So you aren't born free, you are born dead. Therefore, life has no meaning nor objective besides life itself, keeping yourself alive. 

And suddenly the value of everything settles in 0. Which is actually a good thing, because you can give things any value you want for no particular, but usually sentimental reasons. But you MUST have a reason in order to make sense of the nonsense, and here enters faith. Not just a religious faith (but is also an option), faith in science, in the progress of mankind, in a prospective personal legacy... and in self-growth. Because, what is faith if not an unexplained hope of things to get better? You may say "I struggle because the alternative is a disaster" and you'd be right (I've never said otherwise) but, wouldn't that be a rationalised flight (even if it is forward)?

- ANYWAY, whatever the philosophical or biological nature of this behaviour, I have to pursue and develop this "faith" if I want to motivate myself to do practically anything, and that's going to be real tough. 

TL;DR: I need a life purpose, a meaning, meaning is personal/arbitrary and I suck making things personal.

So I would actually have a great future as a gangster, lawyer, businessman or politician! (and excuse me for repeating myself)

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Hey! Awesome to see your journal up here.

It's been a few days. How are you doing so far?

Depression is something I've had to work with throughout my life as well. One book that's been mentioned around here that could help is Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach. She has a podcast interview with Tim Ferriss that is great too.

The concepts of death you speak of are true in many ways. I read about them in a book called Denial of Death by Ernest Becker. You may be interested in it. At first learning that life was meaningless made me even more depressed. Why live if it does not mean anything? But what I learned (mostly from A Man's Search For Meaning by Viktor Frankl) is that although yes there is no single purpose to life... and "it is all meaningless"... it's up to you to define your own purpose for your life. The best conclusion I came to was that the purpose of life is to be happy. To have a meaningful experience. Not because it will allow you to go to Heaven or go to "hell"... but because you are here now and living for the day is the best you can do.

I'm not sure if you've seen my video on How to Find Your Purpose but it may help. Also, Death and the Present Moment by Sam Harris is a good lecture on similar topics.

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You've already recommended me the Sam Harris lecture, it was great! (perhaps could be nicer without that bit of pretentiousness typical of die-hard atheists, but I can't ask for miracles, pun not intended) I'm checking out the rest of the recommendations, thank you again.

Day 0.5:

0.5 because I had a tiny, very small relapse this morning. I held myself all I could but boredom beat me. Bad luck, there were holidays these last days, everything and everywhere was closed, so I got stuck at home for days at the worst moment. Fortunately, I've got plans for the rest of the laboral week, but I'll have to improvise something this week-end. I'll be surviving day by day until I'm strong enough to take up some outdoor hobbies, the more I can handle the better. Probably I'll have to do it before that moment arrives. 

Actually I have some stuff to do here. I have a violin, not the best quality but perfect for novices, an electric keyboard, missing two octaves, so I think I'll stick to the violin for now. I was learning both years ago... but then the same story as usual. I also have books to read, I've been stockpiling lately. And finally some Python manuals, because I'd really like to learn about the Ren'py engine and start making my first visual novels. 

But, BUT, this house, their inhabitants, it feels like there's an invisible fog that drags me into routine, boredom, despair and games. That sounds "teenager-ish" but it's nothing but the truth. So I think the best move, at least for now, will be to go outside. Being outside empties my batteries, and if I do it too much I usually end with anxiety attacks, "social hangover"... and relapses. Damn it, nothing seems to work as it should! I really am like a naval officer, always "choosing the lesser evil". 

But all these difficulties add to the fun. They shouldn't, since this situation is anything but fun, but I seem to have inherited some kind of sick satisfaction in being the target of misfortune. Specially if it's self-inflicted. Thanks Mom! When I'm cured and I have a job, I'll take you around the world, like you always wanted. I'm being serious.

Enough babbling. I'll report my progress in Friday, when I have sorted out those plans, then again in Sunday. Forward we go!

(I saw the veterans writing things they're grateful for in every day they write, so I'm trying that too: )

Today I'm grateful for:

1. My high-school ex-principal and director in the play I'm currently rehearsing. I've explained my circumstances to him because I was absent two days in a row the last week when I was having my big relapse, and he was completely understanding.

2. Cloudy weather. I love it!

3. My healthy liver, I'm pretty sure I'm going to binge in industrial sweets very soon.

Edited by Hitaru
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I've struggled with depression and fear of death since I was really young. I can remember lying on my dead in the dark when I was made 7-8, trying to imagine what non-existence felt like. Silly, I know, but that heaviness has always sat in the background all my life. I'm not sure gaming was a search for meaning for me as much as an escape from meaningless. Good luck....

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I've struggled with depression and fear of death since I was really young. I can remember lying on my dead in the dark when I was made 7-8, trying to imagine what non-existence felt like. Silly, I know, but that heaviness has always sat in the background all my life. I'm not sure gaming was a search for meaning for me as much as an escape from meaningless. Good luck....

Not silly at all, I can relate. Heavily. It's good to know it's a fairly common issue. It pushes me towards trying to find a common solution for all of us.

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Hi,

You're saying you're depressed. Would you care to explain that further; how does your depression affect you? It's a bad idea to consider it as a part of your identity. It may be so right now, but it's not how you deal and live with it. It's important to understand that your illness (if in fact you have one) exists separately of you, and you can affect it in a number of ways. That's the only way you'll make it.

I love your topic's title by the way. Draws attention too.

Oh yeah, the no showering part is a killer. I like to imagine how much I've saved on electricity by not showering.

I completely agree with your views on faith, especially about religion being an option. I used to be one of those edgy atheists that think just because The Bible isn't literally true, the concept of faith itself is something for misguided morons and simpletons. As I'm rapidly nearing 30, I've been finding such conclusions to be childish at best. But I will say that faith is something each person needs to realize for themselves; it cannot be explained in a direct manner. Or at least I don't know how to.

As far as relapses go: don't worry about it. Relapsing is a part of the process. What matters is that you quit again as fast as possible and don't flagellate yourself endlessly for it. Anyone who claims he's quit gaming in his first try is lying and probably playing 16 hours a day while posting here. Don't ever do that, people here won't judge you for relapsing. Of course, if you keep doing it, they may stop taking you seriously, ha.

I don't think Cam has deallt with a topic of depression in his videos -- at least no directly.
Never mind, I sux. Here it is: How To Get Out Of A Funk
Here's another video you can check out: APATHY: How to Give a $hit (When You Don't Give a Fu#%)

What you're doing is great and amazing. The VASTVASTVAST majority of people will never get unhooked and will continue to live miserable/somewhat bearable lives.

Not us.

Edited by Marchosias
NYAN NYAN
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On 10/12/2015 at 9:57 PM, Marchosias said:

You're saying you're depressed. Would you care to explain that further; how does your depression affect you? It's a bad idea to consider it as a part of your identity. It may be so right now, but it's not how you deal and live with it. It's important to understand that your illness (if in fact you have one) exists separately of you, and you can affect it in a number of ways.

It's hard to recognize where ends my condition and begins me, or vice versa. I have a tendency towards melancholy shared with my parents. That would be fairly safe to label as identity. 

But I also have other behaviours: unwanted periods of loneliness and isolation, sudden bursts of social anxiety that make me cancel plans and appointments in the last minute, feelings of sadness and grief for no explicable reason, extreme difficulty to focus and find pleasure in anything, even (and more worrisomely) in things I rationally know I enjoy, a constant grey neutral mood, or worse, mood swings between euphoria and despair triggered by human contact. That's what I call "social hangovers", the hangover being a negative state of mind that lasts in time and intensity proportionally to the previous positive state until I stabilize again in neutrality. And lastly, this terrible tendency towards abandoning my own wellbeing, a complete lack of self-preservation instinct. That's the depressive part I'd say.

Your title is quite eye-catching too by the way!

Day 5

I've spent all the day only in writing this. Maybe a mixture between keeping myself busy expanding limitlessly a single task, foreign writing inefficiency and "background anxiety". I went to everything I was supposed to go, but lacked a bit in the social department (didn't go to one event). That's an improvement. I also kept myself tidy, clean, acceptably nourished and applied for drawing classes, I'm still waiting an answer. 

There was nothing on TV today and friends have been suspiciously silent, so boredom is slowly killing me. I don't think I'll be able to sleep today, I'm just not tired enough. Given that Saturday is traditionally the social day, maybe I should force myself to go out? But where to go? It's ridiculous in fact, given all the things I could be doing. But... I can't. I don't feel strength, or the "push", to do anything. Uh. Here comes the downer, I wasn't expecting it. I'm positively infuriated now and I forgot everything I spent all this stupid day thinking, so better to stop, before starting to ramble about myself, English language and... God damn it. I'm feeling nauseous. Now would be the perfect time to start playing. But I won't. I'm fleeing the house to spend the night outdoors before that happens. 

Yes! Nothing like acting a teenager and endanger myself behaving recklessly instead of just doing the easy thing and... erm...

Spoiler

¡Por Dios, estoy hasta los cojones de esta mierda! Aquí todo el puto día sentado como un despojo, escribiendo tonterías en plan "¡Oh, pobre de mi, miradme, todo va mal...!" Gilipollas.

That felt good. Translation option in the forum when? I'm chastising myself in a very harsh way and I really shouldn't do that, but I can't help myself. I can't stand my situation, and most of all, I can't stand myself. I hate myself. Not in a attention-seeking way, I'd hate myself alone too (as I did in the past). Well, I said it! Now what? It's always the same, this mood swing, this damned mood swing! When I'm not feeling sad, I'm feeling angry. When I'm with people, I involuntarily mimic their state of mind, have a pleasant time, then go back home, everything becomes a nightmare, then sad again. 

I'm feeling like I'm losing my mind. Maybe I didn't have one to begin with. I just feel like a human failure. How can everyone else go outside and have at least a miserable life? Why I can't, or better, why I won't allow myself!? Yes, that's the stuff! I won't allow myself! Yes, stand up! Yes, motivate! Yes, change! But then, this stupid voice inside! Always trying to hinder, to destroy me! How can that voice not realise we're not two separate beings, and my ruin would be also theirs? I must be the stupidest person alive if I can't understand something so easy, what a waste of oh so great neurons. I'm so tired of this. What did this post contribute to myself or to anyone? Nothing, nothing at all. Fuck it. I'm only good to complain, complain, complain all the time! Instead, I'm sitting in the couch all day, slowly going insane. Or was I already? You can never be sure, another nice perk of being born so smart.

But at least I'm not playing. Yeah, my effort will save Humanity. 

/rantoff

Today I'm grateful for:

1. Not being relapsing

2. Having hands to write

3. Computer working fine

I'd also say food and shelter but I usually think having them for granted is making me too comfy in my hellish comfyness. If that's even a word.

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You didn't game and that's a win. Make sure you celebrate it and be proud of yourself - even if things weren't as great otherwise. Going out to be social is important even when you don't feel like it - just like going to the gym is important even when you don't feel like it. If you only do things when you feel like it you will never do anything - or is that just me? ;)

Things get better day by day, be patient with yourself and celebrate the small wins.

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You should keep in mind that it takes a while to "detox" from gaming. I'd say you should just try to relax and focus on things that you enjoy for the first week or two. Binge on Cam's videos and this forum, too. It's completely normal to feel like you do. That doesn't mean you're out of the woods after that initial period -- I nearly relapsed yesterday. To be fair, the danger will never ever go away completely; it will just continue diminishing. And being aware of this is one of the keys for staying clean.

I tend to use the alcoholic's terminology, for it's something I've had the privilege of experiencing. I'm not being sarcastic: there is a silver lining to all this crap.

Imagine a guy who works a mediocre job then has a beer or two with his buddies, comes home to his mediocre girlfriend (he committed to the first girl who was nice to him), eats mediocre food (some veggies, but a lot of simple carbs and sugars too), goes on a walk in his mediocre neighborhood, then plays video games for about two hours before hitting the sack to live another mediocre day. This guy clearly isn't an alcoholic, and he's not exactly addicted to video games, but this is not how successful and fulfilled people live.

Kicking this terrible addiction crap and keeping it in check can lead into living an amazing life. It forces you to accept decisions which are emotionally uncomfortable, which is the basis of living an amazing life.

Come home from a job that you enjoy, or pursue a business plan you truly believe in. Don't hang out with guys who work crappy jobs and drink beer every day; instead, hang out with people who are successful and as or more intelligent than you. Spend time with your gorgeous girlfriend and soon to be wife, engage in sports, read interesting books, write a blog. Fuck her brains out while pulling her hair and listening to hear pleading for more. Take a week off to do whatever you like. Or work 18 hours a day -- up to you.

About depression:

There's a lot I can relate to in your posts. Alcoholism runs in my family: not in a case of my parents, but they both come from families where one (father's father) or both (mom's parents) were drinking. They only told me and my sister about it when they thought we were old enough, and even then they were brief. It was bad shit. I think that's what brought them together, honestly. A huge amount of alcoholics are depressed, so I think my mood and energy problems are inherited.

Cancelling plans and appointments in the last minute -- I did so much of that. I think I lost at least two potential girlfriends due to it. Argh.

Struggling to focus and find pleasure with things I know I enjoy -- exactly that. I quit playing keyboards after 3 years even though I loved it. I let my tropic fish die even though I adore tropic fish. For no good reason, I cut ties with people I appreciated and sometimes even loved. Meh. And, I still struggle with web programming despite being very interested in it.

Small steps and regular breaks. I guess. It really does get easier once you start reaping some sort of rewards.

Regarding social hangovers ... well, this could mean a number of things *puts on his amateur therapist hat*. You may be bipolar and there's a slight chance you may even benefit from medication (which I'm not a fan of), but you may as well be just very introverted. The society has invented a disgusting term for people who are like that: schizoid. I find it somewhat insulting since, to someone with zero knowledge of mental problems, it sounds like a kind of schizophrenia.

But it really is just that: very introverted. Fkn normies.

I'm like that as well, I enjoy the company of people very much, and I can even be very talkative and energetic. But it just becomes too draining at some point, and I just CBA to interact anymore. Your average, normal person is an extrovert, and the entire society and its norms are designed for extroverts, so anyone who isn't like that is "weird". Well, fuck them. It's a good thing we're, on average, intelligent, and we don't live in caves anymore, so we can actually dominate the unwashed peasants with our supreme abilities. Or we don't. Again, our choice.

There's a number of ways of dealing with depression. I'm sure you're familiar with a lot of them, but I'd like to suggest a less known one: ketogenic diet. Now, this won't be an option if you dislike fatty food, for keto diet is based on consuming a lot of fat. And by "a lot" I mean 70 to 80 percent of your calories coming from fat alone.

You basically eat meat, lots of low carb vegetables (like broccoli, spinach, kale ...), and different kinds of fat. No sugar, no pasta, no bread, etc.

I've done it before, and it's always been extremely helpful in terms of my mood and energy levels. I'm doing it yet again now; I'm currently on day five, and I feel a lot better already. You can learn more here: https://www.reddit.com/r/keto/wiki/faq

People reporting on how keto improved their mental health: https://www.reddit.com/r/keto/comments/15th8k/keto_and_depression/

Psychologytoday article: https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/evolutionary-psychiatry/201104/your-brain-ketones

For today's standards, it's a drastic way of eating. So if it turns out to be a bit much, you can always go with the standard paleo diet, which is kinda like keto, but allows more crabs-rich types of food like potatoes, carrots, beans, peas, etc. Some even go on a "paleo-ish" diet that's lets you have a sugary snack every once in a while, and generally not obsess about having pizza once a month. This isn't applicable to me since I get addicted to everything, but it's an option.

Make sure to report back on how you're doing.

 

 

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Regarding social hangovers ... well, this could mean a number of things *puts on his amateur therapist hat*. You may be bipolar and there's a slight chance you may even benefit from medication (which I'm not a fan of), but you may as well be just very introverted. The society has invented a disgusting term for people who are like that: schizoid. 

Two "real" doctors allegedly said I had Schizotypal personality disorder, one in my childhood and the other last year. None told me directly and they never put me under treatment or gave an official diagnosis after many months with me. So to them I must look something like this:

.ManWearingTinFoilHat.thumb.jpg.71a72788b

(Source: Spanish Wikipedia. It made my mother cry.)

Mom's also alleged answer to the last one: "But he doesn't see aliens...!" and then Doc said it was not a "pure" case, but mixed with other things, such as Histrionic personality disorder. What they both did say in front of me (but not at the same time) was they "never saw a patient as complex and complicated as me in all their years". I must have so many disorders they correlate with each other forming a self sustained cobweb of byzantine complexity, so abnormal it actually shapes its own "normalcy".

sindrome-de-los-tres-chiflados.thumb.jpg

(Picture taken during my last session)

 

Day 11 (Ongoing 12)

I've been writing this post bit by bit during these days, but my mood has changed several times so it's been terribly difficult to keep up. I'm going to stick with a noncommittal, neutral approach in order to forget the least possible:

Routine and activities:

- Drawing classes confirmed. Starting Monday.
- Started dance classes, initially as a favor to a friend (now also teacher), but hey, it's not that bad.
- The same friend has talked me into getting a driving license. Let's go for it then.
- Probably starting gym soon.
- Social events soon. I have a terrible feeling about this one.

Also theatre rehearsals have finished until January. I'll miss them greatly.

Hours playing/relapses: 4. Consecutive, in a single time, but I can't remember which day.

- Also yesterday I spent the night reading a VN and obviously today I spent the day sleeping. I can't properly explain in English. I'll use the terms positive and negative. I've been negative since Thursday. I expect to start being positive again on Saturday afternoon, but since I have a social event it will probably extend until Sunday evening, where it will connect with the anxiety of classes, but since it's the first one, the anticipation will kick forward the positive state, which will prolong most probably until Friday morning. I really have a grasp on how it works now, and I feel very relieved (and proud) on the fact. It took me years after all.

Important events abandoned: 1

I should start listing other things, such as "days without eating 3 times" or "days without a shower/going out", etc. Every single little thing seems an insurmountable problem. But I'm in negative mode now, so ignore the depressive tone. In fact, if I was positive I'd probably said "days I've had 3 meals", because language makes a difference.

There's a big emotional rant incoming, but first I had to get all this out of the way or I could never actually post anything, praise my organization skills.

Things I'm grateful for:

- This week, despite what I might say in the emotional rant. I have the feeling I made a step. Maybe that's why I'm so scared lately. Cam was right, new year doesn't start January 1, new year starts now!

- This friend of mine. I "pray" (or at least wish) for his happiness and success moving forward from the hellish tribulations of romance and heartbreak he's currently into.

- My understanding and open mindedness, my shield and my sword in this gruesome combat against myself. They rust, they falter, but they are everything I have, my only hope, and I love them. And, much more importantly, not just because I need them, but also because I could make a difference in this world with them, a difference in other people's lives. 

(Do I actually want world's wellbeing to get recognition or out of kindness...? Well, probably it's not that important)

- You.

 

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HERE GOES THE RANT, YOU CAN IGNORE IT (you should)

I've reencountered a childhood friend, one I've been neglecting of my attention for far too long. Ignored, avoided, yet you won't find the slightest bitterness, only a fierce, unattended desire of traveling alongside me. Such kindness! 
And I'm their host.

"They" can be referred to in singular and plural, for they are many in number yet One in nature. No, they are not a deity. No, they're not product of my imagination, but like the two previous things they may exist within me. Ladies (but mostly gentlemen!), I'm most honored to introduce...

 

"Panic Attacks"!

 

Have you ever needed a reminder of why you started playing videogames in the first place? Well; nothing like a good shake 'n twist 'n scream now and then for spicing life up a little. Boring showers, dinners, naps, social calls...? No more!

My last panic attack was only minutes ago (increasing exponentially thanks to my snail writing, now hours). They just keep happening, currently twice a day. Suddenly smashing you, like a tidal wave teleported right in front of your face. Now you’re fine, thinking about your stuff, or not thinking at all, then brain activity increases dramatically, just like that. Thoughts become chaotic, and you suddenly feel out of breath. Then everything goes fucking down. You lose balance, so you have to steel yourself or reach some wall or something, or directly sink to your knees.

Uncontrollable yelling follows right after. Being raised as middle-class with a bit of expectations of climbing the social ladder, it's a given I never raise my voice. Ever. So you can start to guess how I feel about this particular part of the process. It doesn't matter where you are, what time is it, what are you wearing, or if you're wearing anything at all, you just HAVE to GET OUT, of your body, of your mind, of this reality. But surprise, you CAN'T GET OUT OF LIFE. You ARE going to DIE. So everything is fucking lost, and there is absolutely NO HOPE. The realization is crushing. Utterly crushing. So crushing even jumping out the nearest window seems ridiculously pointless. If you had the strength to stand up properly, that is.

This happens in a matter of three to five seconds, so there's no "breathing it out". There's no trick. No countermeasure, no prevention. Anxiety, derealization and nausea don't help either. Usually I'm able to gather my thoughts back after six seconds at worst. I read the usual thing is a minute, so what other people must feel like a terrifyingly intense anxiety attack for me it's like... imagine an old computer noisily freezing, it’s my best guess. It's actually physically painful, as if my brain really stops and resets, damaging nerves in the process. Typically hands, feet and joints. Migraines are also a classic.

And there you are, beaten in a back alley of your mind. Personally, after primal fear is gone, my pride takes the lasting wound. Seeing myself crumbled in the floor, helpless, taken by cowardice or whatever foreign sensation outside my usual iron fist control over myself; it just seems comically tragic. So my usual reaction is to literally laugh it off. Out loud, like a maniac. Everything about the situation is just so pathetic, and some part of me deeply enjoys it. I must hate myself with a passion. That reaction is also out of my usual behavioral spectrum, but by that time I don't care.

Then, after making me feel like I lost my mind completely, it vanishes. Like that. As if nothing happened at all. Perhaps that's the worst part, when after such a display everything is replaced by an ominous numbness. A constant, ominous numbness. My usual self.

 

Now comes the rationalization:

 

I read or saw somewhere that humans, being the only known species aware of their own existence and mortality, have developed some kind of mental "firewall", essential to avoid triggering an unending fight-or-flee response. This instinctual firewall has been reinforced throughout the ages with social norms, religion, philosophy and so on. This topic(s) truly fascinate me.

So what would happen if someone, by some quirk of fate or biology, and a bit of aid of circumstances, was born five minutes closer than your average citizen to an unending spiral of neurological horror? I'm just this close to be completely crippled by this disgusting animalistic panic. Currently I can hold it at bay with the best of my ability, but what will happen as I grow older and approaching the end? It's easy to shrug off a bad feeling when you're young, your skin terse, your movements brisk, your organs healthy.

No one else around me seems to have this problem, or they hide it quite efficiently. I prefer to think myself special or “cursed” rather than incompetent, it would make me overtly bitter and jealous of Humanity's ability at not giving a fuck. I was there before and being an infuriated piece of shit shares a big similarity with being a presumptuous piece of shit: they are both equally useless in getting me close to a solution. So I prefer the second one. I also have something like a natural talent for it.

 

Here comes the boast, triggered by a sardonic response to depressive line of thought (mood swing):

 

My existence is one of struggle, just to avoid falling in a pit of complete despair. That would be a most displeasing outcome, despair leads to erratic behaviour and therefore madness by civilised standards. So I keep myself in line with everyone else instead of just running away to live in a forest or secluded buddhist monastery. Or singing in the street naked. Only because I need a bit of collaboration of society if I ever expect to get anything done.

Speaking of which, being constantly smashed in the head with the futility of life has imprinted my character with increasing arbitrariness. Nothing seems about right by itself. This means I won't be able to buy any spiel about religion, traditions, social norms, patriotism or any "imposed" values anytime soon. I deeply regret the fact: they are great "purpose boosters". Life is whimsical, but I've come to like it that way. It also means I'll have to choose everything, instead of just letting myself "flow" in the river of life. And freedom of choice is not as liberating as one might expect.

Fortunately there are dilemmas that solve themselves. Killing everybody? Why, I'd never want to expose anyone to the same fear I suffer. Besides, living beings are interesting and I'd rather make them worship me, only because it'd be more challenging. Taking over a country and installing a reign of terror? Please. Overused meme. I'd rather win some elections, making yourself appear smarter, wittier and more qualified than somebody else surely must bring an almost sexual pleasure. So that kind of crazy is discarded.

It's funny though. I used to have strict ideas and morals. I just had an obvious answer for about everything. There was only one way of doing things closest to perfect - mine. Now I feel I just wanted people to acknowledge me, ideally as superior. Presumably like every bullied lad out there. Maybe I still want that, even if I find it childish or shameful. Maybe one of the many things holding me down is being overly zealous about third party opinions. Also bullied kid stuff I guess. Why? They, you, us, are nothing but fucking carbon-based conglomerates! Man up, me, for fuck's sake.

 

And now the emotional breakdown:

 

I just want a way out of this. I just want a purpose! I know I can't ask for the panic attacks to go away, so I'm only asking that much. Because, if someone could magically make them disappear, I'd had to devote my life to that person. You can't even start to imagine how serious I'm talking now. Just a purpose. Any will do. Any!

 

And now a sudden light-hearted off-topic nonsense makes its way through my mind to avoid me getting too caught up in my feelings:

 

Spoiler

Mentioning devoting myself to other person gives me the lewd chills...! I think that also has something to do with my tendency towards self-destruction, but this is definitely not the place to talk about it.

 

Then repeat.

 

And that’s my mind in a nutshell. On a normal-to-slightly bad day. I wrote everything in a single time, so basically I've been registering my mood swings as they were progressing. I only wanted to talk about panic attacks at first but... I guess I got carried away. Now it's 7:00 in the morning again, sigh. And today I have to go to vote. Something about some poorly-dressed but surely deadly commies taking over and unleashing chaos, or so TV says. Well, worst case scenario, I have nothing against goose step, victory parades and russian folk songs, so who am I to judge? Wait, I DO have to judge! Crikey! Also why is that the "bad" guys are always better dressed than the "good" guys? That's downright confusing and unfair if you ask me.

 

You surely don't give a damn about any of this stuff, but it was nice to let it out. I have to sweep now and then to avoid bursting.

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As someone who has experienced many panic attacks throughout my life (including recently), I definitely relate to your feelings of lack of control with them. I think the only thing that helps me remain sane in those moments is remembering, this too, shall pass.

If you haven't read A Man's Search For Meaning by Viktor Frankl, that could be a good book for you right now if you're interested in "finding your purpose."

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On 20/12/2015 at 7:01 PM, Cam Adair said:

As someone who has experienced many panic attacks throughout my life (including recently), I definitely relate to your feelings of lack of control with them. I think the only thing that helps me remain sane in those moments is remembering, this too, shall pass.

If you haven't read A Man's Search For Meaning by Viktor Frankl, that could be a good book for you right now if you're interested in "finding your purpose."

Another one to the list, thanks again! :D

Man, you've had the full pack! Anxiety, self-esteem issues, panic attacks and other things I can't remember now but I also relate with them. 

I'm not completely sure if you support people in auto-pilot mode or if you really had all those problems in my same or higher degree (online paranoia probably related to my own poor self-esteem, nothing to worry about here citizen). If the first, you've got some dedication to keep up with everybody and that's honestly impressive from my life perspective. If the second, then I'm jealous of your success in something I should really be able to overcome (wait, should I?). Or at least I'm going to be if I give it a second deeper thought, but it's not a negative jealousy whatsoever so it's just uselessly floating over there in my mind. I guess? Anyway your attitude is admirable.

W-wait, you said recently? So they don't go away!?

Day 15 - Tuesday 

Day completely wasted laying in bed all day. After the success of being able to go to the first drawing class, I guess it was some kind of... that thing that happens when something happens in the exact opposing measure to balance the cosmic energies... or something. Another yay for my English, people!

(Oh, I left this here for later and it was waiting for me, sweet!)

Day... 20?

I had a breakdown these days. I've been almost literally using the bed to hide from the world, unmoving, from Wednesday to Saturday dawn. On Tuesday at least I got up to eat, but not these days. Not even to drink water, but at least went to the toilet. Probably. Had some cool hallucinations and dreams. Nasty and worrisome pains. Then I indulged and binged on a geo-political simulator of very dubious quality. And now I'm somehow here! Gladly, absolutely thankfully.

UNRELATED:

Spoiler

 

Just told Mom who woke up right now that I'm worried about me and my health. Said something about that being anxiety and dismissed all rebuttals in a dispassionate, "health professional" way, then refused to engage in informal conversation. To her, anything and everything about me is just anxiety; probably a gunshot wound too. The woman who blindly believes anything half-assedly said about me, if it comes from someone wearing a white robe. Or everyone else except me, actually. Or maybe from no one at all, but creates her own version of the story all the time. That sounds awfully inconvenient for any attempt on free thinking and improvement of any sort. Quite the opposite for be herded and live a happy life if she actually tried. Perhaps she's trying to flee from the fact her son is a failure (I'm not -yet-, but to her I'm growing old stuck in here and that's it). Partiality, cowardice, sheepishness and some other character traits I most despise, all gathered together in the person I'm supposed to treasure the most. What an awful bad luck! (I'm not even joking)

I don't know why, but the greater the success and happiness I imagine, the farther away I picture her in my great scheme of things. Maybe it's because those traits? People used to say I'd come to miss her when I leave home. But I did, when I was studying, and the only thing I discovered was how hard is for her to do normal, "motherly" things. And for me to keep the pace with lovey-dovey son things. It just helped me be aware of how emotionally detached I am of her on a daily, practical basis.

Maybe I see her as a nuisance? Maybe she's a symbol of the old scheme: past, worse times, and my current situation? Maybe I blame her or I blame myself? Blame blame blame all the time. Honestly, for once, I only want her to perform her supposed duties: to be emotionally supportive (or at least coherent), that's the only thing I really wish she could do. And the only one she won't just because the way she is. Isn't that what a mother does? I'm not talking about gender, that's bullshit. Well, maybe a tiny bit, but that's society's fault for teaching us that men are less emotionally supportive because they're too busy being all rough and tough. So, if she can't do what she's supposed to do, and I could provide for myself, why would I want her around? Thankfulness? Again, being who I am I can't take things for granted, so "blood deference" isn't my thing. And again, that's not necessarily a good thing. All things considered, she's a fine lass overall. Even if I consider her more of a flatmate/landlord than authority (and authoritative) figure. Still totally not a positive thing. In any case she's always busy now and also starting to forget things, I guess I'll just have to play along the role of son. It causes me no small amount of pain, again because of assumptions and emotional neglect. I'm not that harsh with my father, perhaps because he's closer to me intellectually, perhaps because I see him as a lost cause and I played son for too long, perhaps both. He's a total stranger to me, or more like a bothersome box on a...

- How do you say "mudanza"? When you move your things to the house you're currently living to the house you're going to live next. There's always a box full of stuff you don't really remember and you don't know what to do with it, and you know it's going to end in a dark corner hidden away, but in that moment is in front of you and you can't just ignore it or throw it away because it's yours after all. That exact feeling. - That's probably a worse fate.

So that's likely the end of the issue. I do worry, though, because... you know. My mother. Gotta love her. I don't want to be a psycho and stuff. Why is so hard being a normal human.

Jokes on her, last mental stormtrooper said I'd never be a normal human, hah! 
- Defining human as: "average married, average paid, average car, average 1.46 kids, average two weeks holiday average salaryman" (by spanish current cultural and economic standards)

So, suffocated with my own tongue in a back alley or fucking awesome, YouTube footage-tier life, nothing in between. Oh boy, isn't being me challenging...!

I'd like to hear some opinions of non-spaniards about "family management" with your own cultural and personal point of view, but it's not a priority.

 

BACK ON TOPIC - START READING HERE

So I've decided, and I can feel some real determination inside me, that I can't just wait in my bedroom to a premature death. Actually I could, but I won't. No sir, I won't. Just for the laugh of it, I'm going to do some stuff. I can already feel my determination fading but I won't allow it. I think I reached the point of no return in existential desperation. It was a very slow development, the average person suffers temporal, short crisis that helps them steer their lives anew. Or they never recover. Not my case it seems. My life's been a crisis from the start so it can't qualify as crisis, but a state of things. BUT NOW I'VE BEEN GRANTED POWER, *Cue evil laugh*, THE POWER OF THE... How could you call it? "Pointlessness", "Uselessness"...? I've been waiting for that moment all my life, when everything would seem so pointless I just stop caring. And then I could do everything I ever wanted because why not.

And that would be the beginning of a fulfilling life. Or a busy one at least. In fact I've been at that point before, to a lesser degree, and the results were excellent, so I'm really looking forward to it.

So, detailed plan, that is:

1. Detox, hard mode: No games, no YT bullshit, no fooling around on the internet, no porn, no fap. 90 days. I'll do a nice calendar and start marking some crosses on it.

2. 8 hours of sleep, no more, no less, no matter how boring or unbearable it becomes.

3. 4 meals a day, 1 shower a day. Self explanatory.

4. No more running away: A man -women too- gotta do what he says he's gonna do. 

5. 1 hour outside everyday, to avoid the void of the sofa/bed

These are the bare minimum, the most urgent things to take care of. I accept suggestions of course. Still, I think sticking to these for 90 days will provide me a good basis, it's nothing less than a radical change to my current lifestyle, and still level 1. 

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As someone who has experienced many panic attacks throughout my life (including recently), I definitely relate to your feelings of lack of control with them. I think the only thing that helps me remain sane in those moments is remembering, this too, shall pass.

If you haven't read A Man's Search For Meaning by Viktor Frankl, that could be a good book for you right now if you're interested in "finding your purpose."

Another one to the list, thanks again! :D

Man, you've had the full pack! Anxiety, self-esteem issues, panic attacks and other things I can't remember now but I also relate with them. 

I'm not completely sure if you support people in auto-pilot mode or if you really had all those problems in my same or higher degree (online paranoia probably related to my own poor self-esteem, nothing to worry about here citizen). If the first, you've got some dedication to keep up with everybody and that's honestly impressive from my life perspective. If the second, then I'm jealous of your success in something I should really be able to overcome (wait, should I?). Or at least I'm going to be if I give it a second deeper thought, but it's not a negative jealousy whatsoever so it's just uselessly floating over there in my mind. I guess? Anyway your attitude is admirable.

W-wait, you said recently? So they don't go away!?

When it comes to things like anxiety, self-esteem issues, panic attacks, depression and suicidal thoughts, these are all very real experiences of mine, and yes, not just "back in the day" but recently as well. One thing I've learned is that these are experiences that come and go over time, and they may never go away completely... but what you can do by working on yourself and learning more about them is to mitigate the negative spiral, intensity and frequency.

When it comes to your family, or mother in particular, it can be valuable to embrace the perspective that the world is your mirror. So the flaws you see in others (your mother) are the flaws you see in yourself. These might not be flaws you currently have (or maybe they are), but they can be flaws you previously had as well. Either way, if you embrace the perspective that the world is your mirror, and the flaws you see in her are the flaws you see in yourself, it can inspire you to be the person you want to be in that relationship, to be the leader instead of the "son" who needs his mom to take care of him.

I truly believe everyone is always doing their best. Just imagine for a second raising a child, and how tremendously difficult that would (will) be. I can barely take care of myself for fuck sakes! Few of us are truly prepared for the adventure of raising a child, and we all just do the best we can with what we know and who we are. At the end of the day, your mom is doing her best, flaws and all. One of my homies, Preston Smiles posted a video on Fathers Day last year. It's kind of intense but it's real.

90 days is the right step to take. Now the biggest thing I'd encourage you to think about is that so far you have a lot of things not to do. But what are you going to do instead? So instead of YT, what will you do? Instead of gaming, what will you do? Instead of porn, what will you do? Etc.

Knowing those answers is crucial to your success.

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  • 2 weeks later...

The entire Shizotypal personality disorder definition is completel bullshit if you ask me.

Quote

Schizotypal personality disorder (STPD) or schizotypal disorder is a mental disorder characterized by a need for social isolation, anxiety in social situations, odd behavior and thinking, and often unconventional beliefs. People with this disorder feel extreme discomfort with maintaining close relationships with people, so they avoid forming them. Peculiar speech mannerisms and odd modes of dress are also diagnostic signs of this disorder. In some cases, people with STPD may react oddly in conversations, not respond, or talk to themselves.

Need for social isolation? Who determines what's natural and healthy time alone everyone needs in different amounts, and what's supposedly pathological?

Anxiety in social situations, odd behavior -- if you're forced to spend time with people you dislike and have little in common with, you're probably not going to act in a very sociable manner. My former support group was full of people near retirement age, and nearly all of them were working class and simple minded (you know, the majority of all people). Result? I'm apparently schizoid because I spent most of my time there bored and annoyed. I can deal with such people just fine in everyday interactions, but don't expect me to share my emotions and past failings with them.

Unconventional beliefs. I think it's well established that a lot of conventional beliefs are wrong or even damaging.

Peculiar speech mannerisms and odd modes of dress? Great, now a middle aged woman (what most therapists are) will judge the way I speak and dress. Fuck you, middle aged woman. The only middle aged woman a young man should be spending time with is his mother, anyway.

Talk to themselves. Everybody does that in some way.I'm not saying you don't have tangible problems; I just want to point out that society has a numerous ways of labeling anyone who isn't neurotypical, which can then weigh down that individual without need. 
 

Spoiler

 

Oh, which VN were you reading? I'd like to suggest a great visual novel for anyone facing a difficult time in life (especially if dealing with social issues): Everlasting Summer. It really is the ultimate NEET visual novel -- and not in a way that would glorify that miserable state. Mind, you absolutely need to play through all the routes to somewhat understand it, for it looks like a generic VN after first playthrough.

The game is available for free on Steam. (I consider VNs games because fuck anyone who calls anything that isn't the latest version of CoD a "walking simulator")

I haven't yet gone through all that you've written, but right now it seems to me that you're trying to introduce to many changes at once. That really is a recipe for failure.

 

 

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Spoiler

 

My favorite quote on bullying by Justine Tunney, who hopefully will never read this since the amount of which I'm quoting her is becoming creepy:

Quote

Now if there were any justice in schools, bullies would be dragged out into the street, beaten with a garden hose, and the government would send their parents a bill to clean the blood off the pavement.

https://justinetunney.com/segregation.html 

 

 

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Spoiler

 

On 8/1/2016 at 10:10 AM, Marchosias said:

Oh, which VN were you reading? I'd like to suggest a great visual novel for anyone facing a difficult time in life (especially if dealing with social issues): Everlasting Summer. It really is the ultimate NEET visual novel -- and not in a way that would glorify that miserable state. Mind, you absolutely need to play through all the routes to somewhat understand it, for it looks like a generic VN after first playthrough.

I've been reading it bit by bit this 2015. I still have to go through fox-girl (or was it a cat-girl, it's been a while) and harem endings. If you ask me, it doesn't deserve the title of "Russian Katawa Shoujo", they are nothing alike, and ES is on the losing end. Maybe it's because I fell on Lena's bad ending first and I found the others plainly boring. Miku's route was something new, I gotta admit, her on-route personality was both very realistic and pleasant to witness. Still, the overall novel, bland (those endings, bleh!) and at some points predictable. Not bad music though, (I really liked Slavia's theme!). And I'd like love to learn Russian, so I'm gonna keep it for future practice and most probably some good russian puns. 

DID SOMEBODY SAY KS~?

Inb4 Rin best grill 

but Lilly best waifu

and we should have some Emi and Shizune around here in the forums to boost the troops' morale!

Quote

I think we can all agree that they are also a major cause as to why you lack the skills necessary to attract women

- And answering your question, if I recall correctly I was reading not exactly a VN, but some game still in development with comically high levels of lewdness (and also a very high amount of a certain fetish which personally I don't find alluring, but the authors really do). About space. And sexy slash gross slash weird slash humorous slash disgusting (varies dramatically) stuff. And space. Believe it or not, I'm in for the plot and the surprisingly well-written descriptions. It helps my writing. (I'll explain right away)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you say, who says what is normal? If I went to parties and study/work my mother and therefore most society* would never suspect something's wrong with me. Hell, I've read this several times here:

Quote

My wife/family/friends weren't aware of the extent of my addiction, they would've never guessed (or something along those lines)

You could be dying inside, but if you mostly do what you're supposed to do on a daily basis, even people closest to you wouldn't have a clue. There are some really good reflections on this in a strip you probably know but I still recommend: depressioncomix (the suicidal guy mostly)

("My mother = most society" disclaimer: My mother is the perfect example of the average spanish middle class citizen, the mirror of the entire sector of society in which I was born, raised, and expected to dwell: In every event she'll hold (and if not actively seek) the majority opinion/attitude. I've tested it plenty and I know better to know I have to think by myself, so in this regard she's just a sociological fact, does not interfere in my thinking processes and therefore this statement is the absolute truth)

In other words, as I said before, I'm so abnormal I'm normal in my own sense. I harm nobody (besides myself) so stop. Scaring. Mom. Assholes. It's just temporary, yeah, totally not my fault, I can be a productive part of Humankind too, just wait. Perhaps. Middle-aged men have their lot too, it has nothing to do with gender in my opinion., 

Quote

Now if there were any justice in schools, bullies would be dragged out into the street, beaten with a garden hose, and the government would send their parents a bill to clean the blood off the pavement.

Something about the world and blindness. But maybe framing them as "conflictive" and special reeducation and anger management programs. Third-party controlled of course, by the State or some specialized institution, it's completely their parents fault after all. Blood relation equalling love and responsibility by spontaneous generation is a medieval and obviously abrahamic conception (no pun). We should be beyond that already. I'm probably being too harsh but I just can't stand half-words in this matter. It has to stop. 

I think I'm gonna need another post to say what I originally wanted to say, sorry about that! 

 

 

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So these days I've been struggling with my detoxes and starting my new activities, with different results. I've lost count on how many days without playing any of my Steam games (Yes!) but I've been playing the geopolitical simulator every now and then (until today, even without being stolen is buggy as hell so screw it, I have better things to do). About nofap... well. I'm doing just fine with the noporn, so at least I'm putting my imagination to work. Which led me to a way of channeling my wicked lust (personal judgment) I've being delaying to try out since puberty:

Writing erotica!

Not porn. Porn is coarse, vulgar. Also not GoT (TV series) or the new Spartacus. I want to do Plot with sex; not Sex with plot

It may be shocking. But works. Everything begun when I found an old text I left half done. It was a bet with some female friends while talking about yaoi (gay romance, japanese term), years ago. I saw it had potential and I jumped head first into it. I've spent these days writing this one and some more stuff (worksafe material too) and I'm unspeakably excited about it (NO PUN!). Even better, the more time I spend with my hands away from myself, the more I'm able to write, both in quantity and quality. So when I fail and have a relapse it also delays my work, and I'm starting to see that I hate having my work delayed. The goal is publishing and maybe even make some name and money on the way. I have a business plan already, I'm sorry I can share it yet. If it works, you will know! ;) 

(I'd find flattering if anyone of you read any of my stuff by the way, but language differences may make it difficult)

 

- But not everything was going to be good news:

Today, I must confess that I cried. I never cry. 

I've been feeling really down these days, overwhelmed. As both Cam and Marchosias stated, too much to not do but too little to do. The fun thing is, the more I try to do things, no matter how scarce, the more anxiety keeps knocking on my door. "It's pointless" "Pointless" "POINTLESS" SHUT UP! 

So I lost track of my sleep schedule once again. Played a bit of that simulator I mentioned. Monday tomorrTODAY, it's 5am, have drawing classes at 4pm, gotta catch a bus, haven't slept, haven't practiced. Probably going to bail out. If I say I can't go today, I'll probably won't go next week, then goodbye. Then down again the roller-coaster goes. 

So here I was todaynight, on the mud, about to masturbate, then spend all night awake with some YT shit. But first, some background:

I wrote Cam some days ago and offered myself as spanish translator. I thought he would be skeptical since my time here was short, but he seemed really enthusiastic with the idea. I've been translating but I haven't send him anything yet, and I was feeling guilty because, even without a deadline, I was here lying in the sofa unable to make myself just survive through another day and there was (and is) WORK to do. And adding my own worries also, my head's been a mess.

So, some hours ago I was watching some videos, you know this Facebook emotional-motivational spam. I try to avoid them all I can, but I must have some kind of emotional flu today, who knows. There's the background, now goes the trigger. I don't know if it was divine inspiration, but I mindlessly decide to browse this forum after many days. I enter and see a message. It's Cam. I haven't tell him anything but if I may, I want to share it:

Hey Hitaru!

I haven't seen an update from you in your journal for a few days so I wanted to just check-in and see how you're doing.

Did you know you inspired me to have other languages translated as well? We currently have Polish, Mandarin and Russian being done! Really amazing.

Hope you're doing well.

- Cam

Whoa, what's this thing going down my cheek. I laugh. Then another. I should write him back. But wait, I have to stop this ridiculous sobbing first, which I can obviously stop anytime. Ok, seems that it's not so easy. I'm such an attention seeker, I just want to stop crying to write about me crying, but let's cry a little bit more first, it's healthy.

Leaving aside the obnoxious fact that I just fucking can't feel as real anything that I feel, 

...how could I inspire anyone? It was an obvious idea, it's not such big deal, sure someone else have told him that before. Inspired. Like, I did something which bring about consequences. Inconceivable. 

People read this stuff. And they care. Whoa. Hopes I'm doing well. No one in my everyday life ever say that to me, some because they take my existence as a given, others... well. I say it sometimes to buy a bit of time from the people I want to see soon but I can't muster the courage yet. So what does he mean?

I just... don't know what to feel. I... sorry, anything I say feels forced. I was sure about what I had to say just 30 seconds ago. This swing makes me feel deppressed and scared. And furious of not being able to express it. Anyway, fuck it, fuck the swings, the autism, fuck it.

Thank you. 

That will be a good start.

But I do remember something. Maybe I'm not good with this kind of words, but there's something else I can do. 

As Denzel Washington would say in Flight, No more lies. Classes tomorrow? Tough it out. I'm fucking going to fucking do my fucking shit. Panic? Tough it out. Death? Tough it out. What else could I do? My samurai metaphor doesn't fall too far away. It's being a flight forward, a desperate charge against an overpowering foe. How could they handle it?

Maybe because for them, it was not about mastering life, but the art of dying instead.

What are they if not the same thing? I know, you're sick and tired of reading the same shit over and over again. Me too. If I can't convince myself that life deserves to be lived laid back and harmoniously, or as we say "without rush but without pause" then I should live it furiously, burning, in a bang. Set a goal, then do it just because, crushing all opposition. 

Why do I keep failing then!? Fuck! Why having my head overheated doesn't make me hot-headed?

Wait! Maybe that about too many changes. You're right, but understand my position, I'm so spineless I didn't even tried to risk in my way of dressing to avoid conflict. I haven't done a single noteworthy thing in 21 years. Currently I'm somewhat understanding I don't need a college degree right now for cash and bitches to magically start rolling in, and I'm not completely over it. I'm still reeling from what I feel like it's been the wasted chance of my whole life, so it's being hard. It's hard to not feel frustrated. It's hard not to rush. It's hard to not kick that door and just run, run somewhere, do something, now!

It's so hard I barely have energy left for anything else. Or maybe I'm just lying to myself, but anyway, I'm exhausted.

In fact I said when I first came here I'd tell that story, the one about my greatest mistake. I think now would be the perfect time. But that needs yet another post, so I'm going to wait a bit at least. I'll experience several mood swings meanwhile, so a shower and perhaps a nap would be appropriate. I'll be back soon.

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I will agree that girls in NS aren't as intriguing as individuals, but the the universe and especially the main character drew me right in. The main theme makes me tear up even now :').

KS, on the other hand, was my first VN ever, and it definitely is a great one. Stop trolling though -- Hanako is obviously the best girl.

I'll reply to the rest later, but I'm glad you continue to post here.

 

 

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Hey, welcome back! 

(I'd find flattering if anyone of you read any of my stuff by the way, but language differences may make it difficult)

I'd love to give it a try. Did you publish anything already?

...how could I inspire anyone? It was an obvious idea, it's not such big deal, sure someone else have told him that before. Inspired. Like, I did something which bring about consequences. Inconceivable. 

You just inspired me to offer my help as a translator too. I'll PM Cam. Your idea is excellent! Exactly what we need to raise more awareness and expand the community.

People read this stuff. And they care. Whoa. Hopes I'm doing well. No one in my everyday life ever say that to me, some because they take my existence as a given, others... well. I say it sometimes to buy a bit of time from the people I want to see soon but I can't muster the courage yet. So what does he mean?

I do care about you, Mr. Stranger. And I sincerely wish you feel better. Your posts stir emotions, make me care and grow. Please keep posting.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PlGL0RsQvaw

 

helped me with death. enjoy, worth the time :)

 

Fantastic talk. I used to know the latter Alan Watts: eccentric, stereotypical sage image, but this earlier exposition is very well done. I'd like to ask Mr. Watts something, if I may (it's going to be complicated given his personal circumstances):

In my case, I find time works as the circle he described. The first stage, the time of growth. The second stage, the time of settling down. The third stage, the autumn, the time of reflection. The fourth, the time of shriveling up until we depart and fade. See that this applies to the average first-world life; the stages of life. Thinking about it, it doesn't really matter how you live and die, the proportion of the stages would keep the same, with the first the longest and going down until the fourth, the shortest, just varying in the actual time that would pass. I didn't know that concept, and I think it's going to stay within me, I liked it.

Given this, my current attitude would be foolish, worrying about the fourth stage and beyond when I find myself in the first. But also, and perhaps being around a nurse has helped, I see that time only goes to worse, at least in terms of physical decay and the issues that come with it: isolation, illness, passing away of loved ones, financial problems, dependence, etc. Therefore I have nothing to expect from the future besides idealized succeses, achievements, wealth, relationships... In this sense, isn't planning, hoping and looking forward a good thing? It's true that there is a tendency of looking at the future and the past. Romanticizing, regretting it, fearing it, we spend most of our actual time away from the only real, tangible one: now. But is also true that past, present, and imagined or expected future share one characteristic, which is also the only one they could ever agree on. In all of them, we exist; in death, we don't. That's the only difference. 

Buddhists would say that I'm suffering (the concept of dukkha in his various degrees) because I have the "Illusion of self" too ingrained within myself. Besides of education, western influence and personal views, it could even be a genetic circumstance, inherited from my parents. Whatever the cause (though it could be really interesting and educational to find out) the answer would be something in the lines of working towards getting rid of that illusion. Seems clever, to be honest.

Here's the con:

For what I know of myself, the only form of energy I know is completely self-related. I mean I can't or don't know how to motivate myself to work towards something besides myself. Even selfless acts of charity and cooperation leave a remnant of endorphins; even helping and being nice feels "selfishly" good at the end of the day, so there's nothing in this world that can be done for reasons completely beyond myself, even if I can't control the reward system behind it. I'd say it works the same for everyone else, think about it.

Why do I say this? Because if I'm part of the endless stream of the Universe and not an astoundingly improbable singularity, why do anything? Why quit gaming? I could just lay back and enjoy myself until the end, couldn't I? Why bothering?

>muh reincarnations

Ah, the good ol' religious viewpoint again! Sorry friend, got nothing against you, but that ain't gonna work.

There's the opposite option also:

If I happen to be so self-centered, introspective and even arrogant and megalomaniac, why not just exploiting it? Humor the role I got by chance. That sounds dangerous, I'd be acting being completely aware that I got nothing to lose. And humans who got nothing to lose become monsters. It just works that way. I realised this long time ago, and I may or may not have decided at that time that I would avoid myself and others trouble by not following that path. Now it knocks on my door again, proclaiming itself to be the only way out. Well, worst case escenario, there was a Hitler already, and I give originality its proper credit. Did you know I share three letters in order and in a row in my surname with this guy? And man, that's a bit difficult, taking into account my own surname only has four. I also share names with at least two dictators and my teachers have been suggesting my future is in politics since I was 5. But I'll always insist, despite how much I'd enjoy to host ridiculously gaudy and over-budgeted military parades and appear in children books, exerting violence it's plainly clichéd. And, uhm, wrong. Could there be a peaceful way to opposition to just give up and step aside...? I have a winning personality after all.

Summarizing, since I've been always scared and passive, I personally think the proper way would be to feed my ego with achievements like a fish, ballooning it until it blows up or deflates when I realise the old scheme of achieving mundane goals has stopped working, its natural lifespan finished. Then, rechanneling that energy into making my existence flow like water. The thing is to carefully manage it to avoid trapping myself in a downward spiral of narcissism, closed-mindedness and assholeness.

At least I'm not defusing bombs. Fair enough.

Thoughts? I'd truly appreciate them!

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  • 2 weeks later...

Hey, welcome back! 

(I'd find flattering if anyone of you read any of my stuff by the way, but language differences may make it difficult)

I'd love to give it a try. Did you publish anything already?

Almost, ALMOST THERE. I've been working lately with a dedication I've never put on anything else in my life. My efficiency is laughable, but I shall press forward. I do have a text published in my former high-school website (the year I was actually attending), a contest I won the second prize (my first remunerated work! :D) and has a funny story behind it, it was never intended to be taken seriously, just a bunch of grand words put together. I guess the prize was a praise to my unusual knowledge of outdated vocabulary? Why not, I'll leave it below, but I already warn you, it doesn't make too much sense, or at least the sense it seems. Here goes.

(It's in Spanish, obviously)

- Boceto casual de una reflexión desesperada

Háyome en una disyuntiva.
Contrariado por los agravios del destino, demasiado tiempo me he complacido en reprimir mis emociones. He traicionado a mi naturaleza, atentado contra mi alma, ultrajado a mi dios. Largo tiempo hace que renuncié al instinto animal, engatusado por dulces promesas de descanso y perdón para mi mente atormentada.
¡Infamias! Sucias maquinaciones del corazón impío. Pero no hay motivos para alterarse. Realmente fue un buen discípulo.
Casi olvido las formalidades. Bienvenido a esta grotesca recepción.
Mis invitados le esperan. La malicia, la falsedad, la locura...
¿Le agradaría indagar con nosotros en el armónico desasosiego de mi existencia? Cordialmente le invito. He aquí mi historia sacrílega.

Amables recuerdos de juventud que avanzan tambaleantes sobre suspiros ahogados. Visiones burlescas de momentos mejores. ¡Ah, la pureza del infante! Al final resultó ser una ingeniosa invención. A la hora de la verdad callaron los juguetes y llovió tinta sobre los lirios. No sientan lástima literaria, me ofendería si lo hicieran.

Prosigamos con la elegía. A mi inocencia.

Y con todo, aún queda lugar e intención en el aquelarre de mi espíritu devastado que ceder a las gratas fantasías de mi especie, tales como el amor y la esperanza.
Por lo visto, grande es el espacio reservado a las mentiras. Sin embargo eso no impide la contradicción.

Ingenuo lector, ¿es que acaso no es consciente de la virulencia que llegan a tener los trastornos del corazón? He aquí mi intriga y la razón de tan indigno escrito.
Pásmese pues ante mi secreta humanidad; el que otrora se jactara de la quietud de su carácter yace ahora abatido ante las pérfidas saetas disparadas descuidadamente por una ambición oculta. Sinceras heridas que sangran con vehemencia a cada paso que me aleja a la par de mi condena y mi salvación. Así lo dicta mi razón, que no conoce de amores ni de ficción; pero, mis disculpas, me estoy repitiendo. Dulce tortura a la que he decidido someterme; sé que el silencio me castigará duramente, pero no soy quién para romper la magia de una mirada cargada de conmovedora amabilidad, por una palabra maldita e incluso homicida que tanto y tan mal se ha empleado, y que no refleja más que el ansia egoísta de apaciguar la abrumadora soledad del cobarde o el desesperado. No me sorprendería hallarme culpable de ser ambos.

Nada obtengo de hablar de ella, ay la causa de mis penalidades, pues solo en la lírica comercial hallan refugio elogios baldíos a la belleza. Mis ebrios pensamientos únicamente coinciden en el tajante corolario de no permitir que la audacia de la estupidez arruine mi frágil momento de tregua, aun si ello supone el inevitable exilio de mis sentimientos con demasiada certeza no correspondidos. La angustia y el desánimo cunden en mi voluntad subyugada. Mas si solo es por casual fortuna, un fugaz instante de cordura de este truhán de letras añejas y expresión grave; estas pocas palabras desdichadas, a ella, siempre, se las dedico.

Just the first word is so ancient and out of place it's obvious its original purpose was a joke. But I kept going and hey, it wasn't so bad at the end. I was just discovering Rimbaud and he was some sort of teenage hero for me, yeah, laugh. And so the text is kind of (purposely) rimbaud-ish. Some inner jokes to my childhood, a hidden message to my crush at that moment and there you go, literature! Words are fascinating. 

At least that's what I'd want to say. Reading it again I can relate, many years later. I see hidden meanings. Maybe I wasn't talking about a girl, but a hidden ambition. Maybe it was a subtle cry to take notice of something now I'm more able to see. I'm falling in my own trap, maybe that was the real joke set by the past me. Who needs weed when you have my mind, egad...!

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