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- Jan 29, 2022
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I saw a white hair pop up in my head. Seeing the genetics from my father and how much we are physically similar, I will have to deal with the fact that I will have totally white hair by the time I'm forty. Cool stuff. If it's good enough for Frank Drebin, I guess it's good enough for me. And don't call me Shirley.
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I know the feeling. And it was you who were suffering the most as well - while the other party probably didn't care one bit about your own opinions. Believe me, you'll be thanking yourself for this in a few months.Left a Discord server because of a political argument. I'd already planned on leaving, the argument was just the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm enjoying not having to step on eggshells around dipshits anymore.
Think the emotional residue for this triggered something because I ended up in a stupid argument with someone and I have this awful habit of falling into a bad feedback loop of extreme self-deprecation, often calling myself every word in the book and justifying why horrible things should happen to me. It's nonsensical and stupid but it's my worst habit when I'm a bit overwrought emotionally and feel guilty for coming at odds with people.I was angry and irritated and disgusted for the rest of the day and just flatout blocked her number after that. Pressure and guilt be damnded.
If it were up to here, everything would we white. White walls, white furnishings, no paintings or pictures on the wall, strictly utilitarian in style.
Absolutely! The volunteer work I did actually tried to help homeless people get jobs. Many of them would end up fired or quitting with a week or a month at the longest. They didn't want jobs, but more handouts. I only ever remember one guy who was a rare good homeless person that down on his luck. He not only got a job, but held and improved his life. I was genuinely happy for him too. Sadly, he was the outlier, not the rule.You see this from the "anti homeless" side for lack of a better term. "Meh they should get a job. Why don't they get a job?"
When the issue is, as you mentioned, severe mental illness and addiction. Indeed it would just be best to throw them into a mental facility and at the very least either keep them there for their own and everyone else's safety or try to make them functional enough to roam society unsupervised.
You were fortunate enough to not be raised by hoarders. The pendulum swings to the other side. Now I'm happy when things look like a classic car paint job -- one to two flat colors with defined hard edges/borders and no gradient. Orthogonal, modular geometry. Boxes, shelves, wide open spaces and flat surfaces. I'll take boring over chaos any day.My wife may just have the worst taste in interior design ever. If it were up to here, everything would we white. White walls, white furnishings, no paintings or pictures on the wall, strictly utilitarian in style.
I told her only normie niggers and 80 IQ spastics prefer that, and not having a sense of style shouldn't be confused with preferring... void. In some words.
What a retarded thing to complain about, but I really don't understand that kind of preference. I'll be going ahead with other arrangements anyway, because it's my fucking house.
Yeah, sometimes opioids hit you like that if you combine them with other drugs. Was never big into it but i dropped a Tilidine once (US brandname Valoron according to Wikipedia) and had the smart idea to have a beer with it. Lips turned blue, got the shivers, puked and had to ride that shit out for ~4 hours. Don't think it was an overdose, did the same amount before with no ill effects and that shit in pillform comes pre-mixed with Naloxone (50mg:4mg ratio) to prevent overdoses/abuse anyways.I have a minor sports injury and a crazy doctor who overhyped it and got me like six Percocet. I took one and the hit off a joint, and let me tell you: Misery. I have puked. My stomach burns. The most pleasant part of this drug binge has been the famotidine and Zofran.
Highschool just never ends, fella. I know that feel.Feels like I just don't fit in no matter where I go and everyone has some kind of secret to it that I don't know about.
Dot or woo-woo?I fucking hate working with Indians.
Cracked up at thatDot or woo-woo?
SaarDot or woo-woo?
Do you feel like you constantly get hyper-fixated on shit?Not well.
Been outwardly calm but internally, it's a shitshow. Aside from that negative feedback loop, I've been in a highly irrational loop where I feel like going on an autistic skitzocow freakout and burn all bridges by starting fights and being a complete mentally unstable sperg when not wanting to vent for hours on end. I suppose you could call this attention/comfort seeking behavior.
I have done none of the above but my brain is begging me to do it and be absolutely schizoid.
On top of that I can't concentrate on anything and just feel miserably tear-prone - if not considering falling into a very bad habit I dropped ages ago. I almost fucked up my tuna salad too.
I got invited to a birthday party as well and I really don't feel like going. I figured out transport because it's the middle of buttfuck nowhere but I'm a homebody really. The method of transport is leaving me needlessly stressed though.
ETA: I feel better but not quite. No destructive urges, just sadness. Sometimes it'd be nice to have someone nearby I could call for some hugs and comfort.
I should get my vitamin D levels checked and hear the shrink if it's the "Quiet BPD" that was mentioned to me, tism acting up or some sort of depressive episode beginning.
No antidepressants though. I'd like not to gain weight.