I'm tired, and there's no privacy here, and at least I got to spend the weekend at home - my own apartment. It was a varied experience, but positive overall. There is, in fact, privacy even in the unit, the hospital, I'm staying in right now, but it's very obviously limited, and the main issue is that anyone can barge in this room and starts doing whatever since it's a sort of a common room. Then there's the issue with the new guy I'm forced to share a room with. He's fairly dull and unremarkable in every way except for the fact that he reeks of cigarettes. It's disgusting. I'm also almost certain that he isn't even aware of it; he looks too far gone: too old, to fat, too dim. Probably lives alone, probably been for years. I'd know because I've started that fucking path in the last three years though at least I can help myself by attempting to o objectively analize what the fuck is wrong with me. And I've been making a lot of progress. He can't. It's just fucking tragic, but I've said this before: it's impossible to sympathize with the deranged when you have to live with them - when you have to tolerate their whims, which in case of this guy, seem to include chain smoking and not washing & changing his clothes. Fuck. But it's also fine; this is why I'm here after all; I'll handle it. And awh, I'd love to write about a number of other topics as well. I'm too tired though.
Wow, I'd call that progress then. Also HAHA GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY nvm just noticed you made moderator But yeah, I think it's great that you've found someone. Perhaps just to point out a trap that you're probably aware of (at least on an intellectual level, which often isn't enough): don't ever become dependent on any relationship. You're two separate individuals in a relationship that's mutually beneficial, and while that relationship can certainly induce all sorts of pleasant emotions, thinking you somehow make "one whole" that's made out of two "imperfect pieces" is both factually wrong & can lead to a disaster. Just don't. I do miss being in a relationship now, actually, even though I know I'm not ready for it. My country's tranny factory is very close to the unit I live in right now, so I think I'll take advantage of that. I hope we can work something out - whatever that might be. It's been years, and I can't live like this any longer. I find nofap to be unnecessary and perhaps even redundant - at least when there are a number of other, more crucial, things to sort out. I'd always tell people to yeah, get your life together, but fap away, my dude. I agree that there are benefits to it, but the way most people approach it is by trying to improve their lives on several different fronts at once, and of course they then mostly fail. lolol im actually posting this
Hai! Oh yeah. And it's funny because the popular perception of what a mental hospital looks like is the exact opposite of how things actually work. At least the program I'm in now - we're actually encouraged to go out at much as possible & spend weekends at home. Me and my parents were nearly pestered by several different therapists to let me spend weekends in my apartment at least, and I finally got permission to do so yesterday - thank fuck. Looking forward for a semblance of normality again. That said, it's normality that I'm finding overwhelming; today I spent about 5 hours just walking around the center of the town and sorting out various stuff like paying bills and shopping. It was exhausting and weird, and I'm still a little paranoid when it comes to spending so much time in public places full of people to be completely honest. But I'm very much getting there. Gonna start checking other people's topics soon again. Glad to see at least some familiar names are still around.
Above all, I'm becoming tired of writing about myself. I need to start referring a larger part of my attention towards other topics, or at least I'd like to; I'm unsure if that's even possible right now. Maybe it's not even a good idea even though I can't see how that could be the case. There's so much to cover, but I'm almost at thousand words. A thousand words of conscience stream is equal to about maybe 250 words of an actual post that attempts to be good, attract and maintain interest of whatever audience it can get. It's still the best I can do right now.
I'm still not certain whether it's a good idea to even write about all of this. The impulse, the initial impulse, that I always have when considering this is that I should just slam the door and leave all of this behind never to return. Never even mention it. Never talk to anyone who considers themselves a gamer again. Deny to have ever played and kind of video games. What are games? Yeah, I had a Game Boy when I was a kid. If you still play games after the age of 16, you need to kill yourself, right. Who has time for that shit, and what a pathetic fuck does actually struggle with gaming "addiction". Just delete. Delete. This is, naturally, not a plausible approach. And there are many benefits to writing about it. First of all, what else are you even going to do when you've spent so many years on gaming. May as well to turn it into a sort of a benefit as a subject you can write about with some semblance of authority. There's a market for it, anyway. And, and, I also think it may help me keep away from gaming if nothing else. I've probably said it before; the mechanism is still there, and the risk of it re-triggering will always remain present. So developing a new kind of relationship with my addiction my even be the only (or the best) way for me to remain gaming-free - sober.
I want to write more, but it's just another one of those days when I'm exhausted by the late afternoon. One relevant issue no one talks about is being made to live in a psychiatric hospital, ripped out of your NEET existence, and then living in the said hospital with little to no privacy while being around multiple fertile women (both nurses and patients). I spent my 31st birthday in a locked ward, being touched by an actual woman for the first time in multiple years if I exclude family members. It was a a perhaps 20 year old nurse with long blond hair and too much dark make up. Really cute, and it was obvious that she's just started her career since she was extremely friendly and really just tried a little too hard. FUCK Next morning, still in the locked ward, I managed to access the shower (the only place that allowed for some actual privacy) and furiously jerked off to the image of her. She'd taken a blood sample from me the day before, so things were already INTIMATE, and they continued to be that way after I exited the shower and was told - by her - that she needs to measure my blood pressure. It was around 150 since I'd just produced circa 50 liters of cum. She then asked me if I was doing some kind of heavy physical activity, and I said no. And of course, she'd seen me come out of the shower before. Adventures.
That's true. Last week was a very volatile time for me, so there may have been some unnecessary dramatizing involved, but we did manage to get it under control. My psychologist, the one who got me transferred here, really is doing everything in her power to make this work for me. It's just another of those situations when I'm left wondering how is it possible for me to be this fortunate.
For some unknown reason, I'm unable to log in to wordpress dot com from this computer, so I'll write random shit here instead. I actually do have a couple of ideas that I should at least attempt to convert into blog posts, but since I'm still very much living in a hospital, the computer time available to me varies in length and can be interrupted at any time - not so much in a sense of being thrown off the computer, but the thing is in a sort of a living, common room-area-thing, and all other patients are free to come in, hang out, watch television, and all the other things people who dare to interfere with my writing do. But it's fine since from this week onward, I'll be spending weekends at home, at my own beloved apartment, so I'll be fine in that regard. I will say though that I'm a little worried about WoW still as, fuck me, there's an actual good private WotlK server coming out soon-ish. I even fucking helped advertise it, using all my copywriting powers (such as they are) with some success, and the owners are actual, decent people who hang out on Discord every day & talk to their future players, which is still a rarity on the private scene, tbh. I truly don't want to start playing again though. There's just so many other things I want to do. Stuff that's at least as appealing as PVPing as a moonkin is, so I've definitely made some progress in that sense. Also, in comparison to my previous, longest attempt at quitting WoW that lasted circa 3-4 months (extensively documented in this thread), I'm now no longer isolated and am actually a part of a structured program that revolves around psychotherapy. I don't want to write about my future plans; it's not something that works for me. I know it's an integral part of Gamequitters, and it does seem to work for many of the members, but for me personally, it doesn't do anything. Even worse, I think it's even holding me back, and either way, it isn't important, and it's not happening.
Either way, the last week's been incredibly turbulent, and I may have made an irrational claim or two during the process. I'm so far from being done here, but it's a fact that I seem to have this irrational predisposition that most, if not all, people want to harm me (or at least use me for their purposes without any regard for my well-being), which couldn't be farther from the truth, but it's something that's been holding me back in a great number of situations over the years. Establishing that, the next question would be, "what happened?" to which I don't have a reply. I don't think it was one specific thing anyway though, of course, it must all have started somewhere and by some precise reason(s). It's just hard to say. I do have some ideas, but I don't even want to speculate about it right now. There's one specific thing that I've had in mind for more than a year now, and it's something I'll get to the bottom of in the next weeks or, at worst, months. Yesterday, it was the first time - in years - when a group of people expressed genuine happiness because of my presence & responded positively to my attempts at connecting with it. I think I've been in a state of something resembling bliss ever since; it's one of those things that you only realize how much you've lacked it when you get to experience it again. And it's literally been years since the last time, I'm sure. This post is too flowery, but I'll leave it as it is.
Perhaps they can be used in such way. No one studies this though; it's mostly just something to keep us occupied, but that's what you get with socialized healthcare. The entire system is set up to support itself & cause as little issues as possible while doing so. Even so, I'm still able to find some benefits from myself in all of this. But it's in spite of it all - not because of it.
I'm starting to have s o m e doubts whether I can benefit from this place at all. If I do manage to extract some benefit out of it, it'll be due to my own activities and not because of following the program itself, letting it all go and "trusting the system". A lot of it is downright infantile; a good part of it can be best described as kindergarten activities. For example, yesterday, we spent about an hour picking a cut-out from some magazine - we were able to choose between various objects, people, and sceneries - then gluing it to a large piece of paper and drawing around it. After we were finished, we had to explain why we've --- I'm being interrupted again, so I'm just posting this and continuing later. i wanrt to die ffffffuuuuuuuuuu )))) (((( ---
Oh, so that was you). Well, my blog wasn't shut down; I just got insanely wasted one night and basically purged the entire thing for no specific reason. I've since started to rebuild it under an updated name: https://uncannydays.wordpress.com/ And yeah, I should write more on the topic of staying here. It's just that I typically end my days exhausted & privacy is a fucking comodity around here.