This message was deleted by a moderator, as it was moot, at 03:29, Mon 15 Aug 2022.

This message was deleted by a moderator, as it was moot, at 03:30, Mon 15 Aug 2022.

Sometimes the better you treat your co-workers the more they think you are weak and they try taking advantage of you... I'm afraid they will wake up with a surprise,sooner or later.

I'm an unapologetic grammar nazi.

The number one mistake I see on a daily basis is the use of the word "loose" to mean lose. "I hope we don't loose the game." Or, "I feel like I'm loosing my mind." Drives me crazy.

Another is "equally as."

"She is equally as talented (as so-and-so)," seems to be the norm these days, and it's just... wrong. She may be "equally talented" or she may be "as talented" but she cannot be "equally as talented."

I'm tired of people discharging their responsibilities.

Coworkers (and others), please read what I wrote in the fruiting email before responding.

That is all.

Some people expects one-sided team playing from everybody else, but doesn't even try reciprocating that.
Guess what?...

As much as I enjoy dealing with stuff online, when it comes to setting up a banking account for a newly created company, I much prefer doing it face to face in a branch. Guess what? The free accounts they offer online cannot be opened in a branch. Sure, we can open you a paid one if you want. No thanks, I'd rather go back home and settle this online - bothering a bank employee anyway, because your system refuses to accept my application throwing an unknown error.

Also, thank you very much for that free accountant services that come along with a business account. The random person on chat proved to be totally useless and I'm back to point 0, searching for the right accountant to do the job for me.

Get your own company, they said. It would be fun, they said. You'll earn more money, they said.

That is yet to be verified.

How to start over? To leave a draining friendship, corrupted by finance; where I pay the bills and am responsible, and they mismanage the parts they have. I bought them a car, so they could get to work. I paid for two years of dental insurance, and they couldn't be bothered to renew it. When we had a fire, they spent 20k (that's 20 grand!) on frivolous things. Now they are spending better, but still incapable of allocating the right amount to the right things. They put words in my mouth that I explicitly said otherwise.

I am so far into the sunk cost fallacy!

Had to choose getting food instead of medicine, because the food pantry doesn't fulfill but one week out of the month. I'm down to my last pill. I'm going to have to take a out predatory loan, or pawn my Uncle's coins to buy medicine. Makes me feel small, but...I have to... It's that or sleep on the street.

Black Marked, Others talking rubbish about something they have no idea about!  It appears that as a GM of Adult games, my games are being talked about elsewhere and that they are only about sexual adult situations.  NOT TRUE!  I have run freeform games for over 18 years on here, and they are about storylines not sex, sex, sex!  Yes, couples have the choice of fading to black or writing out a tasteful love scene, but that's not what the game's baseline or interlinking stories are about.  No I do not narrate, they are not sandbox nor scripted by Reactive Freeform!  I do not allow any talk or gossip about other GMs and players and their games.  Please don't run down and label a game because of what you THINK it is about.  Not just mine, but any others that choose to run Freeform games.  I even now use a d20 dice roll to settle individual fights and battles.  So does that make me a Systems game owner?  I doubt it, I am always looking for good writers and the Adult tag is for a bit more freedom of speech, fighting actions, and yes, love scenes.  But I am all about the stories, not the sex!  So those of you that have a harsh opinion of me and my games can just *Fluff* right off and pick on someone else!

Promises of help, and no help provided. Useless advice. Family and public aid were detriment, undee the guise of aid.

Three people on RPoL were very supportive. I can't name them, but one gave me some money, someone who just wanted to help, who didn't even game with me. One has been my dear friend for years, and had given me an eye to write to. One has been very good at distracting me from my plight, as they have more problems than I. Several more people very helpful, even though they weren't major help, they did their part to help rise my spirits.

I have to live in the car again. It's basically over. At this point beyond a bolt of lightning striking down those standing between me and prosperity; I'm going to be quickly decline into poverty. My friend will lose her job, I'll get sick from the elements and poor nutrition. I'm hoping to Gosinn's luck that some of these people in our way will either step up, or drop down.

Anyway, I'm leaving RPoL. Not because I want to. I'll have no internet, even at the library. I have no clean clothes, I have one day of meals, and that's that. I lose bathroom access, and...a bed.

If I make it back on my feet, I'll let those here know. If not, I'll miss this place.

Ugh...I hate being bipolar.   There's stories I'd like to write (and other stuff I'd like to do) but my brain tells me: "Nope!  You're going to sit in your lazy-boy and stare at the tv today."

-.-

Sick, and now two days away from moving into my first home in over a year, I may have to spend the night in the car tonight and tomorrow night. I have the money to stay where I'm at, but the hotel refuses to acknowledge and fix the holds on my digital card, so the card is frozen, and they card company is waiting for me to resolve it. Of all the entities to need to fix this, it shouldn't be me. Yet the card company won't remove the holds, instead choosing to freeze the account, and the hotel won't remove the holds, instead content to get $0 and have a bunch of holds outstanding. Talked to both managers. The Hotel one seems willing to work with us. No way of knowing what will happen since the holds aren't removed yet, and we're due to to post again for two days. Our stay is Sunday to Sunday, and tomorrow is Sunday. All this will be fixed on Monday...but I move into my home on Monday. So at that point I don't care if the holds are there, because I'll just close the card and settle it another way. Right now, it's just a case of two companies doing a piss poor job of the one thing they're out to do as a service.

Edit: Also, I'm sick. I'm ill with some respiratory illness. One that's not testing as Covid, but lingering for weeks.
This message was last edited by the user at 01:55, Sun 02 Apr 2023.

Photoshop WTH

Devastated. Out of options beyond hoping. For one year I've been homeless. Our move in date was April 1st. That was Saturday here. So the inspection was on Monday. The inspection (by the charitable organization) failed. The landlord, whom was vetted locally, had a corporate douche try to have us (my roommate and I) move in WHILE they were renovating. Expecting us to pay while they did their job. I'm livid. My case manager is livid. I'm deject, depressed, hopeful, but scared. Sad most of all. All I've wanted for years!

I just wanted a home...

I just want to go home...

...Gosinn help me...I just want to go home...

But I don't know how I got here
Lost in the cynical dust
Instead I drift into worry
That I've no one to trust

I'm damaged
But somehow managed
this far
but I don't know that I can find my way back home
I'm damaged
but somehow I've managed
For now
but I don't think I can face this on my own

Assemblage 23
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7vgUZ12QGM

I'm from Louisville. I have a friend whose family member went to work Monday morning and is now in the hospital.

How many times people? How many times...

https://www.facebook.com/scott...e/10154453595789883/

My friend, on RPoL is going through a...an ineffably bad time. He's had his home demolished less than three years ago. He's losing his home again. He's had surgery that took forever to heal. It took forever for him to get disability funding. He was put on medication for depression maybe five months ago or so. His solution is having a home. His solution is having help. I just got a home, literally less than two weeks ago, after being homeless for over a year. He talked to me, and checked in with me. I don't want to make his plight public beyond how concerned I am for him. I put my vent here, because of two major reasons. One, I'm not going to discuss, but simply state my compassion and empathy (having literally been homeless too!) and how all I can do is just give him all the morale he gave me. Two, well...I messed up the one and two and it's blurred. I guess I just don't want to share all this, and all the rest, but he needs support...I wish I had more to give. It's something I really have on my mind and heart, I needed to break a minimum confidence, just to express how sad, how understanding, how yearning I am for him. His depression isn't going to to be fixed by medication. He does need it, to help cope, but it's a a coping tool, and not the solution needed.

If you want to Rmail me, you can. Otherwise, just know anyone that rooted for me, I got where I am in large part to having support. I know he's miserably aching, so I want to wait for reply from him before passing on any support I had, that people want to redirect from me to him.

He cheered me up. I'm afraid my trying to cheer him up, will fail. I am going to try, but I'm not an optimist. I'm not going to sugar coat, because I'd rather give him real understanding than empty words. "cake in a crisis" is not what I'll be giving...but not far from it. I'll be staying in contact, but trying to also give him his space.

On another note, I was in a game that "died" about a year ago. This is not about the game! This about the GM, a person. He had failed an exam, an exam he needed to pass to get a job. He had a newborn at the time. He also had a brain injury shortly prior. One player in that game keeps logging in. She seems to be trying to "keep it alive" and seems completely and utterly callous to the situation that the GM may have permanent brain damage, be in poverty, or...or gone...forever. I have OCD, but even if I didn't, I think a good person, any good person, who cares about people in games and not just games for gaming, would be concerned. He was under a lot of stress, I told you it all. You have the germinal details. I may never know what happened to him. If he comes back, and can communicate with with RPoL, I hope I can know, and tell him how worried, literally concerned and sick with concern. He doesn't owe me any explanation. I just want to know what happened to him. I don't care, I couldn't care less, about the future of his game. Not until I hear from him, about him. If he needed space, god! I get that. That's the hope I hold out on. That makes perfect sense! Newborn, probably working more to make up for lack of better pay, taking care of health. Look I'm single, have no children, but I always take things slow. There's never been a "good" time for the things that come up that delay my games. I...*deep breath*...I just fear, based on the amount and cause of his brain injury...that it would quite, quite...bad. I don't say this in anything but care, I'd love to know he's alright.

Maybe one day he'll be back, and I'll show him this post. Months. Year. Ever. That he didn't leave my mind. We weren't "friends" but he was a person I'd have in my game, and I was in his; and like me, he shared personal stories. He wasn't cold. I got to know him. As a person. I don't know his name, but this is coming from a person who literally goes by V to people face to face or on the phone. What part he shared, what I got to learn of him, it was a gift he was giving to have that cusp of friendship.

That's all. This is a vent. It really is. I needed to get this holding of concern off my chest, as worrying hurts me and does no good for them. For the first friend, who really I've gotten to know quite well. He's called me friend, I have called him friend. I'm going to keep trying to give him morale, and most of all, a place put his words, and face that will read them, and cry or smile with him.

Thank you for not replying here. This is quite a vent. It has been pent up in me. I ache, and it's from both my Empathic Personality and having been there. Hell! I'm just out of that tunnel, and still not in the clear. I know any aching I have...it's worse for them.

*sigh* That's it. It's not, but for here it has to be.

I feel concern. There is no answer for my friend who faces homelessness and poverty. They face a road most unknown to them. They have not replied, and I hope it is for progress, but fear and deeply believe it is the abstract that is characterized as "the Devil" that that removes them from contact.

I told them I would pray for them, and I once did. Things seemed to go better for them. I told them of late I would pray for them. I didn't. Still yet as I write this I have not. I am not one to pray. It is they alone, my only friend that is religious, that I do not feel insulted by their thoughts and prayers. I now feel if the power of prayer were real, that I have chosen to not call upon it, and now it is too late. For prayer at least. At worst, that is also the most that could possibly have saved them terrible hardship.

I meant to pray. I meant to focus my thoughts and hopes, in communion with the abstract forces characterized as a being of good and force which acts simultaneously throughout time.

Now I say this, bare as bones. Without and poetry. I have worried for my friend. I don't know what I can interact with. It's not in my nature to do what I have said I wouldn't, nor to refrain from something I said I would do...and most poignantly was doing that I wasn't.

I will pray now, to the one force I have found solace in. I prayed. Acknoweldged the help I was given. Admitted I do not want to lose the luck that has been afforded, and that I want to see my recovery from poverty be seen to conclusion. I also chose to ask this character, this totem, to help my friend. That if they cannot, to at least mourn with me. Not to cause them grief, but if grief is felt to be with me as I may, may, find my friend gone.

I cling to hope. I bring not even cake, to the crisis. I come empty handed, with no apology, but with deep regret. I wish I had said more to my friend, immediately after they reported their status.

I hope this does not break confidence, as I will not name them; but I'd like to say what I can, in the event you, or you, or you, any of you reading this, happen to know the user, happen to able to help.

They began to gain my attention, as a person, not just a user, when they had surgery. It was for a hernia. This surgery was not nation class, and certainly not world class. It was painful and did not heal properly. It took them, by my account eight months to just received care for the poor healing, and infection! The infection was...basically treated probably far too late. I was not yet homeless, but I had my own health issues. We shared more than game related chat, we exchanged hopes and he gave prayers. I started to, when I could do it honestly, even if not expecting true results, to at least say what I meant, and ask as if to be given reply, in way of reply being aid to my friend.

I was homeless; but prior to that, they lost their mobile home. They had rented land from someone's property who owned a house on it (IIRC). That owner tried to give due notice, but the new owner was not to give they land to my friend's mobile home. What happened, as I understand it, was they had nowhere, nowhere to move it. What mobile objects could be taken were, and he moved to his grandmother's with his mother. His grandmother had dementia, and my friend was still healing, and poorly. He couldn't work. He hadn't yet gotten financial aid, and this sunk him into rightfully deep depression. His home, his mobile home wasn't moved. There was nowhere to move it. So it was demolished. It pains me to imagine, but I do, and it's vivid. The walls being bent like tin foil. His clothes, cabinets and curios strewn into wanton debris. His life, his home, his things, discarded. Tossed into refuse bins, and ruin to his life unflinchingly exacted.

His transition of "better" was getting two things. Social Security or Unemployment. Either way, it was little enough, and not even enough. He was given medication to make it day to day. His mother and he bickered, his grandmother caused a great deal of worry; she had dementia and would commit disturbing acts; most often at night. This was part of what I surmise was the cause for bickering, his mother thought it was his duty, not her own. Maybe it was, but he was healing. Regardless of anyone being right, it was situation of terrible trauma.

Of recent news, his grandmother passed away. He told me he needed to find a new home. To me, if this were my mother, or my one time friend Anne's mother, we'd each be in line to inherit aid. It seems, for whatever reason, my friend had to move out. I speculate, but there's not enough information to conclude any facts, at all. Maybe his mother didn't want him there. That's sort of how my mother is. She has three dogs, one of life support, and three cats, and yet she wouldn't do much for me. My mother also is petty. I hope my friend's mother isn't. Maybe the grandmother had an financial agreement; essentially the opposite of mortgage. That my friend, and his mother, scions of the owner, could stay there, but only as long as the woman lived; that upon her passing away the bank inherited the property, and my friend and his mother had due notice, but still grieving had to grapple with homelessness. Maybe the grandmother had another heir that did nothing in recent years, but last legally documented, this absentee owned it all. I could keep trying to find an answer, but I won't; not until I hear from my friend.

I never heard them say their surgery, over more than two years, healed. I never heard them say they had a great relief. It was one disaster, hesitating to breath, and holding breath, as another disaster occurred.

Here, in Johnson County Kansas, we (citizens of the County) can go to the library and use it. Even without library card, one can use guest passes. If it's torrential downpour, or heat waves, one can, during operating hours, take refuge and have web access. My friend, Anne, the one I lived with and was homeless with, works at the library, and I still spent a long time in the car, because I was so traumatized by my plight. I had the option though.

While I was homeless, I had user, someone I seldom heard from, give me donation of around $200, US donated digital cash. Of course I won't name them, but they only asked I pass it forward. Were I able, I would give this money, even as I grapple with the current housing I have, to my friend focal to this post. I offered, and have offered to others to give money, not much, but what I had. I had done this for years prior, well before a donation was offered to me, that I took.

I think that's difficult. To accept that a user on the web, even RPoL has only good intentions. The donor, for me, did. I got the money and it was critical. I can see their donation as a domino untoppled that had it not been there, many, literally dozens, or cascading fees, hardships and loss of income would have occurred. They gave me around $2090, but saved me around ten times that in averting. An ounce (forgive imperial) of prevention is worth a pound of remedy. This really was close to literal. My friend never took me up on my offer. Other friends have done the same. I'm glad they didn't, but only if they didn't feel the need. I hope if they did, and especially if my friend I'm most concerned felt the need, that he would have reached out, and not been afraid I had malicious intent, or would exploit his situation. So sad, but true many people can't be trusted.

Anyway. My friend will have my full attention should they contact me. I just...at this point I have to wait. Worrying now does no good. It helps them in no way. I prayed, and though belated, I did it full measure in good and honest intention, heartfelt and unyielding in phrasing.

I'm not asking you do detective work. I'm not asking you, or encouraging you to use RPoL as a charitable site. I am, however, telling my story in regards to my friend. I'm, without unfairly citing them (to unsolicited request), saying a user didn't just offer, but sent me money, and it changed the course toward where I am today. They asked one repayment "pay it forward". I'm going to. Damn it, when I'm given an acceptance or opportunity, I won't need to search. I'm wanting people who may read this to above all else, just keep in mind the person they engage with here. The Harpy Cove, a literal group of users that have rallied for awful purpose, work to tear down the lives of people, and I'm one targeted. I don't know who else they do, but they seem honest they they do it to exact "payback". They still take very small shot, after nearly TWENTY years of my enciting incident. These users are real! I won't name, but they're among this community.

At the end of this post, I am finally winding back to say this is vent. Not a PSA. I needed to get it off my chest. Not compel behavior. My friend's fate, if you will, rests outside my view and well outside my reach. At least for now.

When they ask for help, and that's help I can practically (in practice not intention) give, I will. They have my heart. Their presence, memory and absence is on my mind.

If you strongly feel you know who these people are, keep that to the business you are a part of. I hope you'll be the donor, and if not, I hope that if you need help, and someone offers it, you'll be given the grace of the donor that helped me, and not be given a harpy attack. It seethes me people like the Harpy Cove exist. That they exist primarily upon this vengeful petty and enduring negativity. That they justify what they do, and are so deluded they think it what "anyone in" their "place would do". These people are why less people get help they need.

*sigh* That was alot to write, so I KNOW that was alot to unpack. I know these people's names, every one of them. I also feel confident, if they read this, they'll know I'm walking about them. I also believe those that interract with these people, whether in past, or future, will be able to figure out. Most of you won't, and that's okay. Truly, literally literally, that's not a bad thing. It doesn't matter who these people are, it matters that you know I said they exist and what I told of them, you can be aware of, as I view them. They are not unique. Well..they are unique, but they're plights or attitudes or actions aren't. That's really the thing I end up on, is to use this information I've written, to also go back and read, if only I read it again. To remember to trust, and care, and allow myself to take risks, because I do want to have community that I love, and love is a verb, a verb of active involvement.

Lastly, this is a vent. I needed to put it to page and leave the rest to thought without words. I am in mourning, and the person I mentioned earlier, whom I never knew as much as person...they still haven't returned to RPoL, I mourn for them still.

*sigh* /vent

This is an old vent, but circumstances reminded me of it and I found it gnawing at my mind again.  So, here's to getting it out of my head and into cyberspace so I can leave it behind for a while...

That one time when I was 'let go' from a freelance writing job, because I used Oxford Commas and double-spaced after periods.  They tried to tell me that it was costing them extra to have someone go back through my work and remove them...and I said, "You aren't paying me anywhere near enough for me to try and teach myself to type differently."

I don't regret that decision.  I mean, the friend who lined me up with the job left the company before I did, although she didn't explain why...but given my experience, I'm guessing poor management.  I mean, I submitted a writing sample to get the job.  If my double-spaces were a 'firing offense', they should have said so when they got the sample, not after I'd already done five or six assignments for them.

You can have my double-spaces and Oxford Commas when you pry them from my cold, dead hands...

I'm still unsettled, but plateaued at concerned but not worrying.

First I'm glad I'm not triple posting! I always feel like a heel when I do.

My vent is a gaming vent (yay!) but one that I know has solutions, and common ones at that. Still, I know it's a <i>Common<i>(?) problem, that many GMs face. That is, really being drawn into more game ideas than I can feasibly sustain. Like lifting beyond my weight class, having a few games feels great at first, but after the two month rep, I just total fail.

I saw a game in the GM wanted ad that I'd love to run, but don't have time to. It helps (truly) that they want faster pace.

2nd vent. New roommate is sick. They have Norovirus. Nothing can be done but wait. I JUST moved! JUST moved! They're part time, and so even in comparison to my minuscule social security, they make a few hundred less each month. They had a traffic ticket they paid early this month. They saw the doctor three times (which is how I think they GOT sick this time!). Finally, they hadn't paid the auto insurance for this or last month. Back full circle, they're sick, and so going to miss work. There's no doubt they will have a job. Their work is public sector, and they have support that validates their misses timed. It's still unpaid time off though.

I haven't been able to move out of storage, it's a few hundred to move, and I can't physically move the few big items. At all. These big items are in the flippin' front of the unit; which actually makes sense, loading a truck is done like that. No matter, I can't access my things.

Cultist mother sent me a some wal-mart groceries and microwave; without being asked. That's all good. The bad is separate but still strings attached. She's just trying to bribe me to have a hook to "convert" me though, which involves over an hour of listening to the lines (that I'm enured to) and this is each. and. every. instance. She helps.

Case worker (from the County Mental Health) has flaked on me for almost four weeks. I need food pantry!

My social security card and birth certificate were stolen, right under my watch, by my old friend Anne's family. Long story short, I stayed there for a time, and when I did, I expected to reenter to get my things; when going to live in the car. (I've been homeless for 13-14 months, prior to this April). When mvojg into the car, I wasn't "Allowed" to get my things. They just "gave" them. Well, lucky me, they looked through my documents, and to be petty (father is a literal. Literally literally. Actually Literal psychopath.) witheld my documents. Aforementioned case worker is like "no biggie, just replace them" biggie? yes! It costs something and requires parallel id. I was homeless.

Well, my driver's license needed renewing. I was GOING to, but literally had to float finances with new roommate. WE were in a tight spot, and so I accepted their baggage as they accepted mine. Still, I can't drive. More importantly, I have very little time before the license is <i>canceled<i>. That means I'll have to take the driving test, which I can do, but no one wants to be at that point.

Pretty much my cultist mother, and online friends, are the only voices not saying "No big deal!". Pisses the fruit out of me! My CASE WORKER is saying this. Knowing I have Anxiety, and trying to go longterm perspective. Aggravating me further. Yes, when I'm stable it won't be a big deal. Yes. Right now, right now, I'm covering all this, my own costs, AND other people's unnecessary penalties.

Roommate is going to the grocery, even though she's sick, and when she does I'll have some cups to drink from. almost a month, we've been drinking from paper cups. Got some plastic cups delivered by my mother's donation, but they has a plastic taste, and strong one! So definite NOT...I forget the term...BP free? Basically a fine dust of plastic in them, and that made me sick. Ran them in the dishwasher, and dishwasher leaks, like big time. Fine, at least they're clean. Yes....but melted. Not dishwasher safe. *facepalm* So back to paper cups.

Once I have a cup, I'm taking some serious anxiety medicine. I had started this ona gaming vent, but then like a caked up block of mud all this just "fell out".

I don't think it's worth comparing one stressor to another, but with OCD I find myself doing it anyway. Not sure which is worse, case manager not...managing my case, by getting food pantry items; or the other above mentioned things. OF course it's "no big deal" if I'm floating the bill. I'm 40, my roommate is going on 44. I should not have to let her use the car, that I bought, for her to use for work, and then not be upset she blew $300 on a defaulted ticket. The ticket WAS for $150, but it was compounded. Not to mention....not to mention in this case will be literally true. Suffice to say ticket was when police showed up to hit and run, on MY vehicle, and my roommate hadn't paid the freakin' insurance. So car never got body work, and thus is exposed to elements, never followed up with the police to get the footage of the incident, AND has ticket against my credit. *sigh* Mentioned. So noted. TRied to remove myself, prior to the incident from insurance, but I own the car, and come to find o[ut, just having me as the primary driver AND AND AND...big AND her ON POLICY (which many people erroneously won't do)...it's still cheaper than her on her own policy. Alone.

That's it though. I have a roof over my head. There's plumbing problems, and mold is starting to grow, but I hope that will get fixed ASAP. Have a flushing toilet, gas stove, normal refrigerator, fireplace, central air, gym, and some other perks. I'm glad for those. Again though, not a competetion. Bad is bad. Good is good. Sad though, OCD has no problem disregadring that "competetition". I'm practicing being grateful for what I have. It genuinely, in good times and bad, makes me realize I have agency in my lifestyle. Very few, very few (not no!) people have anything but hard times. I am grateful for having survived through seriosu ordeals. I look at myself in the mirror, and while I'm gnarly looking, I'm proud of myself. Most of the time, I feel like I'm playing the cards I'm dealt. I've been pushed to points I had to choose to live. I make that choice more often than I have since I was was in my abusive home as a youth and young adult. Never in my adult life have I had to be such a lead singer in a small choir for my advocacy to live.

Bit too deep, but I have to get it out, like emotional dry heaving. I called a crisis line and volunteered I wanted to live. That pretty much went from "I hear you I want to help" to "Welp. Sounds like you called the wrong number then. Call us back if that changes." The man's exact words were "I'm so glad you want to live. At the end of the call" which was five minutes into this call he said this "That's all I need to hear. Take care and stay strong" *click* I do understand they are swamped, and I'm not resentful of people that may be helped that are on the verge. These lines are swamped. I just really got a match lit to the fuse that, if I didn't want to live, I wouldn't. Thankfully that spark didn't light the fuse. Felt horrible for days, just solid five days, getting straight up canceled by the crisis line.

Roommate literally, within seconds of writing that, triggered my bank to lock my account. They entered my PIN, rather than as credit, to pay for the damn groceries like cups. So now I have to unlock my fucking bank account! REally...just brimming with Chagrin.

I thought that was it. Literally was going to type "I think that's it" and it would have felt good. Jesus! *sigh*

Edit: (Nothing has been removed) I had karma like experience in a span of...can't see the time stamp of this post, I think an hour. I call a former friend to ask for some money. They're very snitty, and make me feel worse. I regret calling them, but am grateful I distanced myself from them, and am reminded. They call me back, which I think "Wow..." just a moment of considering their turning over a new leaf. They were not driving while I was on the phone with them, they were out with "friends" at a restaurant. They call to ask for a ride. Which I was thinking they were taking a piss with me. No. They got in bad collision, not paying attention to the road. Car is totaled, Mark (ex-friend's name) is fine. Victim is okay (as much as he cared to check in with them). He's waiting for police, but it's dark and he's got not cigarettes. These are his priorities. I'm a bit flat and confused wtf made him think I could help him. So he goes on the offense, full on typical pain that Mark is. That's the kind of person he is. Blames ME for the wreck. I rail him. Just...no...when I was on the receiving end for asking, not demanding, not 20 minutes prior, he was mean, and derroagatory. One of the few times I will say; I was actually proud of myself for chewing him out. I try to distance myself from ever being vindictive, but but he's a narcissist and having the mentality to keep his straight was necessary for my own mental well being. Felt good. Sucks to be him. Probably sucks more for whomever he hit who I have no idea. Unless it makes news, I'll never know. I railed him though. He went for the throat with underhanded hurtful and derrogatory narcisistic tactics and I shut his ass down like a 2 ton hydraulic press. At one point he says "I'm just going to hang up if you can't get your shot straight" so I hang up. HE calls me back and yells "Don't fruiting hang up on me". I'm fuming, but high as can be from the relief he can be predator on me, and just highly amused. Literally could not stifle or even soften the laughter as I just hang up up on him in mid tant rum. He calls me back, and I pick up. I fire off a zinger, and then hang up. He starts texting me, which I think is a very telltale sign he's narcisist, because I can read what he's said. 10 minutes later, or 10 months later and see objectively this what kind of person he is. He blows my phone up, but I don't block him. I'd prefer to have some ammunition in case he tries to sabotage my relationships with other people, to try to be predator on me again. After ten minutes of silence, not more text beeps. The phone rings, it's my mother. She ordered me a microwave. Which is nice, but then Mark calls. So I use that audible silence, as my mother is keenly aware of the muting that occurs in speech when another call comes in. I get off the call with her, and tell Mark to "MAke your words count. I'm blocking you. Now and forever" and he then plays the victim. I put him on hold, and admittedly, that part I feel scummy about, because I pretended like I was thinking about helping him. I get my recording going and continue the conversation. He's cold, he's hungry (he just flippin ate an hour ago!) he really just "needs" a ciagrette and I "ahve nothing better to do" HE says, and this part is verbatim "V, seriously. We both know it. You have nothing better to do. You have no life. I've got to get to work tomorrow. You're unemployed" not true. In my six years of working I did more work than he has his entire life. I'm, disabled. He has disability too, legitimately, but can work part time. He goes on "Last I checked you've got your shot straight, so I'll tell you what. Okay? All is good. When you get the car, come get me, we can get some cigarettes. I'll my insurance. WE can go back to your place. You wanna play cards? We haven't done that in years. We can talk abotu this stuff. You're right. I need to get a lot of stuff off my chest. I wasn't going to say anything, but you've really been burden on this relationship, and I really just want to chill out, smoke and take it easy. I don't need you to apologize. It's not a big deal. I knwo you have your issues. I forgive you man. Brother, I forgive you. You gotta make this right though. Come pick me up. This is like the fourth time I've asked. Nicely. Don't make me ask a fifth time" I told him I'd send him a taxi. I'm not. His friends he went out to eat are just like him. They too have no emotional attachment, and use him, because he wants to use them and their social status. So let him wait an hour, two, ten. I don't care. He can call them. I didn't block him, but I'm done. It felt good to go to the ring and go my five rounds, but I'm calling the match here. I'm not going another five rounds of his crap. When I think about asking him for help, when I feel desperate, I'm going to read the texts, I'll have to. That will remind me that I am better having parted ways, and to never question the legitimacy of that.

I'm never going to be glad thousands of dollars of damage are done, to anyone's property. It's not my problem though. I take solace he's getting payback for being such a louse. Literally less than an hour after berating me, now he needs something. Tough.
This message was last edited by the user at 03:19, Thu 18 May 2023.

When an addict becomes ready and able to slough off their vice, and is prepared to repeat this struggle, it's a moment of celebration. Any addict, however, knows this is the beginning, and it takes only relapse to lament.

This morning, I took one small step in drug abuse. I have a prescription for an anti-anxiety medicine. I can take up to 3 in a day. I previously, before my doctor upped it, could take up to 2. She (my doctor) upped it to an occasional 3. It's an "as needed" and some days I need zero. Most days I need 2, often though I can take just one and think I'll need more, but don't.

I did this abuse prior, but effectively it became prescribed, so the behavior has been acted upon before. That's how my doctor (among many other factors) decided to up it to 3. Because a couple times I took 3 even though I knew I wasn't prescribed that.

It's a powerful drug. It's very common as an illicit drug. However, in Japan it can be purchased without a prescription. So "powerful" may be seen like aspirin. Too much aspirin can really mess you up. As we all know, aspirin also shouldn't be given to those going through puberty.

This is the tragedy, what I'm about to say.

My doctor has all but said explicitly, there's almost nothing more she can do for my anxiety. Short of getting admitted to in patient care---which I tried to do, but was deemed unfit--this is about the absolute maximum cocktail (I take four regular medicines for neurological disorders and mental health. So the tragedy is, is I don't curb this habit, and learn some days it's just going to feel crushing...if I don't curb this...I will be so much worse off.

Literally as I was writing the above, I had knock on my door. My literal front door. I have to post in another thread to link this in serendipity. I was pretty much finished with this post, when the knock came. That's all I was going to say. Then the knock came, and it was...it helped. Little things help so much when you're so very easily slipping.
This message was last edited by the user at 23:13, Thu 29 June 2023.

I looked into some discord based role plays.....wow, do I feel old.  :(

I recently began my fitness journey two months ago. I was doing great; changed my diet and even started getting better at keeping my routine. Well, last week, I had a very loud and obvious pop happen during my workout 7 days ago in my knee. I immediately got an x-ray done, ultrasound, and MRI all this week and got the results this morning. I tore my ACL and medial meniscus and will need surgery. I'm just frustrated that I didn't get better news and now my recovery will be pushed much longer than expected, putting me out of work for a good while and off my routine for a very long time.