Venting thread that still excludes eddy (2)

[Axiem]

That's teeny-tiny. My aunt and her husband are 12 years apart (24 vs 36 when they married). My parents are 8 years apart (20 vs 28, respectively).

I had a friend in high school whose mother was in her early 30's, and her father in his 60's or so. Her mother was 18 when she was born; I never really inquired into the details any more than that.

[alynnidalar]

once you're older, yeah, but at that age it's a gulf

Always gotta remember the "half your age + 7" rule.

Where did that "rule" even come from, anyway? I guess it makes sense (although tbh dating somebody more than 3-4 years younger than me still feels very weird, because they'd still be college age) but it's a very specific rule. Why +7 and not +8 or something?

[finlay]

That's teeny-tiny. My aunt and her husband are 12 years apart (24 vs 36 when they married). My parents are 8 years apart (20 vs 28, respectively).

I had a friend in high school whose mother was in her early 30's, and her father in his 60's or so. Her mother was 18 when she was born; I never really inquired into the details any more than that.

I had a friend in primary school whose dad was in his 70s. his mum was like, normal mother age, maybe 30s. apparently his grandfather had been victorian.

[finlay]

anyway, oh, vent:

just as my duff wrist is finally getting to what i'd call better (it's not fully better and i've still been medicating it, but i can basically do things with it again without it hurting too much) my elbows both start acting up. it's pretty much definitely my posture when riding a bike – my seat was too high and my elbows were "locking out", ie completely straight, which is bad. but i was riding my other bike and tried to alter my posture and probably made it worse, putting more strain on my upper arm and shoulder muscles.

sitting in a hunched over position at work probably doesn't help, and my right elbow has suddenly hurt a couple of times when i gesticulate.

[alynnidalar]

Would adjusting your seat height help any? Then again, that might just make things worse for your legs/back.

[Axiem]

Vent time.

My daughter has been an absolute pill lately. Last night, I just got so tired with fighting her over going to bed AGAIN, that I just told her "if you want to prove you're a big girl, then act like one and put yourself to bed". She fell asleep still in her clothes (normally we at least try to get a night diaper on her).

Cue 3 in the morning her screaming her head off because she wet the bed and her leg is suddenly hurting and...ugh.

I didn't get much sleep last night

[Travis B.]

Why can't I go a whole week without planning?

[Pole, the]

Why can't I go a whole week without planning?

Why can't I go a single day with planning?

[Travis B.]

Why can't I go a whole week without planning?

Why can't I go a single day with planning?

You obviously don't understand what planning means here...

[jal]

You obviously don't understand what planning means here...

Is planning one step further than ideating?


JAL

[Travis B.]

You obviously don't understand what planning means here...

Is planning one step further than ideating?

It is the step between merely ideating and intent; it is actually planning what is necessary to bring about an attempt.

Note that for me planning is often colored by a degree of intent.

(I have been planning once or twice a week for at least the last four weeks (I lost track of before then), with varying degrees of seriousness. I just wonder when will this stop. I just want it to stop.)

[Salmoneus]

once you're older, yeah, but at that age it's a gulf

Always gotta remember the "half your age + 7" rule.

Where did that "rule" even come from, anyway? I guess it makes sense (although tbh dating somebody more than 3-4 years younger than me still feels very weird, because they'd still be college age) but it's a very specific rule. Why +7 and not +8 or something?

Curious. The rule is exactly the same here, too (or were when I were a lad, at any rate), which suggests that either it's very old or it's the result of (or at least been spread by) some particular TV show. It's probably not old, though, because the taboo on age differences is growing stronger and stronger. x/2+7 already feels like it's pushing it, but a few generations ago it would have been very prudish.

[jal]

I just wonder when will this stop. I just want it to stop.

Damn Trav, that sounds bad :(. No luck with therapy then?


JAL

[Travis B.]

I just wonder when will this stop. I just want it to stop.

Damn Trav, that sounds bad . No luck with therapy then?

Due to scheduling reasons and my therapist's getting sick, it will be three weeks between therapist appointments. Which is way too long right now.

[Axiem]

Curious. The rule is exactly the same here, too (or were when I were a lad, at any rate), which suggests that either it's very old or it's the result of (or at least been spread by) some particular TV show. It's probably not old, though, because the taboo on age differences is growing stronger and stronger. x/2+7 already feels like it's pushing it, but a few generations ago it would have been very prudish.

Wikipedia cites it showing up in a 1903 book, but doesn't otherwise provide (for me) reliable sourcing on origin.

[Travis B.]

I just wonder when will this stop. I just want it to stop.

Damn Trav, that sounds bad . No luck with therapy then?

But yeah, any planning is too much planning, especially when you have been putting together a realistic attempt. I've been scaring Liz, who I have been keeping up to date on such things just so someone IRL knows. I'd be very scared if I were her that I was going to die on her. Objectively speaking I should have gone inpatient in some of these cases (especially since I have not felt safe), but I always think things will be okay if I just wait, no matter how serious things are - I need someone I know IRL to tell me I need to go for me to do so.

[Travis B.]

I don't know if I am attempting to push Liz away or not.

[jal]

I don't know if I am attempting to push Liz away or not.

Not much I can say, except that I really, really hope you'll find a way out of this mess :(.


JAL

[Travis B.]

I don't know if I am attempting to push Liz away or not.

Not much I can say, except that I really, really hope you'll find a way out of this mess .

It's been a very bad summer, looks like it will be a bad fall, and there is no end in sight to any of this.

(Okay, some things have gotten unarguably better - I am no longer ultradian cycling or constantly mixed - but some things have also gotten unarguably worse - I now plan at least once a week.)

[Chagen]

Here's a pretty unique vent for me. It's not about depression or school or family life, it's about something entirely different. Something I've never really talked about with people.

I hate a particular thing. What this thing is is irrelevant so I will not discuss it in detail. All that matters is that it's a thing related to fiction and I hate it. I fucking despise it with all of my body. I don't really know why. I didn't use to hate it. It just incites incredible disgust within me and makes me extremely angry. I hate people who like it. I hate seeing it. I filter it on many sites. I have raged against it for so long that on many sites I have been placed under posting restrictions or even straight-up permabanned. I once stalked a guy who liked it (I constantly got into arguments with him over it) on Twitter with well over 7 accounts, creating a new one every time he blocked me until I just gave up.

Herein lies the problem. I am well aware that this hatred is extremely irrational and that I am taking it far, far too seriously. But I can't stop. I have hated this thing for so long that I literally don't know how to stop. If I were to stop, all of this anger, all of those literally thousands of posts of ranting and raving, were pointless. I would have been banned for nothing. So I can't stop. I keep on continuing this insane, highly-unstable, near-pathological hatred of this thing.

And I should mention I am a hypocrite. Even though I hate this thing, I still have a few secret images of it I like and guiltily keep stashed away in my phone and hard-drive. I have even written stories where it's a side-element.

And even if I decided to simply roll with my previous actions....this thing still disgusts me. It still makes me angry to see it, and seeing people enjoy it makes me even angrier. Can I even stop if I wanted to, given how much visceral disgust this thing gives me?

And hating it gives me purpose. I enjoy getting into internet fights loudly declaring my burning hatred for this thing. Even when it's literally just me and a bunch of other people all dog-piling on me and tearing me apart. Actually, those are the best. Virtually walking up to this thing's fans and hurling a torrent of enraged abuse at them makes me feel good. Their hate and insults only fuel me further.

I cannot help but notice that the start of my immense hatred of this thing roughly coincides with my slide into depression. It rises and falls. When my life is going better, it lessens and sometimes I even start to get over it. But when my life falls in the shitter again I double down on this hatred.

I don't really know what to do. I don't talk about this often with anyone in real life, because most people would ostracize me and call me a bigot. This hatred is related to a prejudice of mine. This hatred, and the prejudice it spawns from, are completely at odds with my several of my viewpoints, to the point where it's pure doublethink. I do not bring up this hatred in real life, because it would make literally everyone around me run the hell away.

This hatred was not instilled in me from my parents. It comes from myself and my depression. I am addicted to this hatred, yet at the same time I feel terrible for it. I shouldn't be like this. But I hold onto it because what the fuck else do I have? Nothing. The cognitive dissonance is incredibly taxing, but this hatred feels good. It's wrong, but I can't let go of it. I may never like this thing, but I'm pretty sure it's not healthy to obsessive despise it with every fiber of my being this much.

I shouldn't have even told this to you guys, honestly.

[Axiem]

I now plan at least once a week.

Forgive my callousness, but what do you mean by this? I cannot figure out any meaning of "plan" that I know that would make sense in context of this sentence.

[Vijay]

I now plan at least once a week.

Forgive my callousness, but what do you mean by this?

Plan to commit suicide.

[Axiem]

I now plan at least once a week.

Forgive my callousness, but what do you mean by this?

Plan to commit suicide.

Oh

Even as someone who has half-heartedly attempted suicide before, I lack any good words to say other than, "please don't".

[Travis B.]

Oh

Even as someone who has half-heartedly attempted suicide before, I lack any good words to say other than, "please don't".

I appreciate the sentiment, but if things were that simple, I wouldn't have been afraid for the past two and a half months that I'd wind up dead sooner or later.

[Chagen]

Dealing with an extreme narcissist who furiously denies their manipulative bullshit and projects it onto everyone else is absolutely terrible. This weekend has been a terrible litany of my mom's tactics.

Yesterday, a boy scout came to our house selling caramel corn. My father bought some, and this prompted my mom to fly off the handle and rant about how you can never trust people who come to your door, which then segued into a rant about some movie she watched about these girls who terrorize a guy. She does this a lot. She forces you to listen to a long rant during which you cannot ignore her. If you show any sign of annoyance or get up or even dare to merely look away from her, she screams and loses her shit. In addition, she always rambles schizophrenically in these rants. She'll go off on tangents and repeat herself endlessly. This is so she can wear on your patience so you finally do something to piss her off so she can scream at you.

After that, me and my father went to go get something. My mom demanded that we get a happy meal from McDonald's and some other useless shit. She had no intention of eating this stuff, and admitted as much to us after the fact. She does this a lot as well. She sends us on an errand with a complicated order, so that she can scream at us if we fuck it up. If we DON'T fuck it up, she refuses to eat it. She does this to make my dad suffer by forcing him to spend money.

Then she and my dad went on a several-hour trip. They got into a fight apparently (I was at home). This was my mom making him do a bunch of errands to run his car out of gas to force him to spend money, and so that she could trap him in the car and start a fight with him. That's how she rolls. She starts fights constantly and denies it when you point it out. She forced him to drive all the way around town and then made him drop a bunch of money on this pizza we didn't even finish because it sucked.

Later, she started screaming at him about this fight in the car. I got sick of this shit and called her out. She absolutely lost it and told me "fuck off". She abuses her position of authority over me as much as possible. I cannot call her out on her bullshit or she'll make my life hell. Really, this is how she does everything. She dominates the house by terrorizing me and my dad so that we eventually just give in and let her run rampant. We can see her manipulative tactics. They're so obvious. But she's allowed to get away with it because she denies it constantly and screams at you when you point it out till you just can't take it anymore. You give in. She narcissistically lives her life and we get no say in the matter. We must allow her to do everything, be it bleed us dry of money, play music at night and deprive us of sleep, or do whatever fucking stupid errand she wants us to do, or we suffer for it. We exist to serve her, and if we don't, we suffer.

Another thing she does is take everything for herself. My father gives her grocery money every paycheck. She always takes a bunch for herself, spends only the rest on groceries, and then bitches about how my dad apparently doesn't give her enough. It's the same manipulative bullshit.

Today, my mom coughed in the kitchen right after dinner was ready. My dad expressed reasonable concern that she was getting germs over the food, especially since she was almost certainly faking it. My mom proceeded to completely fucking lose it and has now been ranting at him for nearly half an hour, screaming about how he's "abusive" and "insulting" her (as if saying that coughing can spread germs is somehow an insult directed at her). This is another one of her tactics: she hounds you, screaming at you and following you, insulting you endlessly, until you break and do whatever it takes to make her leave. She also does this extremely annoying thing, where she stops and leaves the room, making you think that she's finally done, only to come back a few seconds later to crush your spirits. She has done that one since I was a kid.

I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of her bullshit. I'm tired of being terrorized by my own mother. I'm tired of the way she hurls abuse at others and calls them abusive when she's the only abusive one. I'm sick of how she makes our lives miserable while she drinks herself into a hungover stupor, blasts music constantly even when we're trying to work/focus/sleep/whatever, and forces us to spend money we don't have.

She just called my dad a "bipolar asshole". Can you fucking believe this shit? Can you even imagine how blatant that projection is? This is a negative amount of self-awareness.

She has a bunch of other tactics too. She'll talk loudly or interrupt us when we're watching something, then scream at us when we rightfully tell her to be quiet. She gets to do whatever she wants, but no one else does.

It's honestly terrifying. Terrifying how she always barges in whenever me and my dad are talking alone and accuses us of "plotting" against her and then screams at us. Terrifying how she's paralyzed us in our own house. I'm wearing thin. Everytime she screams at me, I can't say anything. I want so badly to just fucking call her out on her bullshit and lay into her for a good fucking hour but she'll never let me. Her absolute inability to own up to her manipulation, even when it's so blatantly obvious me and my father talk about it in the car, is probably the worst part. She doesn't even know she's doing this, she is that mentally ill. This is the natural order to her.

There are very few things in life more emotionally taxing than an abusive parent calling you the abusive one while abusing you.