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|>>|| No. 23560
We tend to have a lot of repeated threads here, but I also get the feeling people don't tend to post in /emo/ unless it's a big issue.
With this in mind I suggest that we have a thread for stuff that's got you down a bit and you need to get off your chest, without it being major enough to make an entire thread devoted to it. We can also use it as a go-to for minor relationship advice, work problems, social drama, and things like that.
Everyone gets down from time to time, let's put some Sisters of Mercy on and wallow together for a while.
|>>|| No. 29713
>When you're in a bad way it's easy to feel helpless and hopeless, but just doing something can give you back a tiny bit of control. Do a bit of tidying or cleaning, cook a proper dinner, get in touch with someone, commit to going for a short walk every day, whatever you think you can manage.
I would like to add to this, because it's good advice and absolutely true in my experience with depression, that you shouldn't feel guilty if it's something "pointless" or that under normal circumstances you'd consider procrastination/leisure. It doesn't have to be something productive. What matters is setting yourself an objective and doing it.
When I was on the dole and didn't have much hope I played Final Fantasy VII, VIII and IX for the first (and only) time. In a negative light I could have told myself I was just sat around wasting time on old games, but in the context of the situation I was keeping myself busy with something. It also helped that they're the kind of games with numbers that go up.
When I look back on it I'm glad I did. Keep yourself busy and good luck m8.
|>>|| No. 29714
>you shouldn't feel guilty if it's something "pointless" or that under normal circumstances you'd consider procrastination/leisure
Absolutely, especially right now when everyone's normal life is on pause and everyone is going a bit crackers. In a crisis like this, there's a lot of sense in just hunkering down and doing whatever it takes to make it through the day.
It might also be worth treating it as a series of experiments in improving your mood. Depression and anxiety can make you very pessimistic and numb you to your own feelings, so one of the big barriers to doing something is the inability to imagine what might make you feel better. Try something and ask yourself whether it made you feel any better - if it didn't then try something else, if it did then do more of that thing.
|>>|| No. 29739
Ended up going to A&E. Waited three hours to be seen by a mental health nurse who referred me back to my LMHT (who told me to go to A&E in the first place), and gave me two diazepam. Got back and tried the crisis team again, who told me to go for a walk. I think the only way I'll get help is if I stand on the edge of a bridge over the main road and threaten to jump.
|>>|| No. 29807
I keep seeing things out and about or on the internet and thinking "oh I should tell grandad about that" and then remember he died three weeks ago. I always academically understood the idea that you don't really realise how big a part someone is of your life until they're not there anymore, but fucking hell I really get it now.
He was as close to a dad as I've ever had. I don't even think it's really, properly hit me yet that he's gone.
|>>|| No. 29808
Sorry to hear that mate. It doesn't get easier but it does happen less often. You can consider him as still alive as long as you remember him, if that helps.
Fuck nobody replied to this. Are you still with us lad?
|>>|| No. 29809
>I don't even think it's really, properly hit me yet that he's gone
He hasn't, in your head - and he shouldn't. I kept a couple of small glasses from my Grandads favourite bar. Had a drink with him last night; he went about eight years ago, but its still one of my favourite things to do. He fucking loved a drink.
|>>|| No. 29811
No he lived until almost 90. He is that proverbial example of a man who chain smoked and drank his way to old age very happily. Died of asbestosis in his lungs; it was believed originating from the brake dust of trucks he used to work on.
|>>|| No. 29812
Bit jealous of you lads. My grandad died when I was 6. Smoked like a chimney all his life and got lung cancer, predictably. Never had the strongest bond with my dad either, never really went out for a drink with him or anything because I wasn't into the footy or anything, so there wasn't much to talk about.
Doesn't bother me most of the time but when I hear people talking about having good bonds with their dads it gets me a bit melancholy.
|>>|| No. 29813
Still here. Been some progress, moving mental health teams so hopefully the new one will be less slack. Dropped out of uni as it was making me very ill. At the moment not really doing much, but without the anxiety of uni I'm managing a bit better. Worrying about having to find a job during a period of mass unemployment while not even having a degree, but I'm trying.
|>>|| No. 29815
Read 'the game' yesterday and it left me with a bitter loathing for humanity.
I hate the pick up artists for their dehumanizing reductionist views.
I hate the women in it for being so stupid they fall for cold reading and and other shitty manipulation, I presumed to be obvious.
And I hate myself for craving validation from anyone who might be so unsophisticated that this shit apparently works on.
The idea that people are quite so basic, and that I could get further in life by adopting any of the tactics or similar to those in the book both terrifies and disgusts me.
|>>|| No. 29816
The people who use and are used by the techniques in these types of books are not all people. Good people exist, genuine romantic loving relationships between people are possible. Do not be fooled by reductive propaganda and manipulation.
|>>|| No. 29817
> The people who use and are used by the techniques in these types of books are not all people.
I think you meant to say "Not everybody uses or are affected by the techniques in these types of books", but reading it to imply than some of them simply aren't people at all is much funnier.
|>>|| No. 29818
I've thought about your reply and whilst I don't doubt sincere people exist I've met them and dated them, in fact I would like to meet more, and therefore it doesn't help my problem very much.
My problem is that I can't meet and connect with new people, to find the right person for me, which is what lead me to reading the book in the first place.
For reasons I don't understand women I try to engage in conversation in public are without fail irrationally hostile towards me. Put me in a party environment, have a friend break the ice, I am fine. But let me say the first 5 words to the girl next to me at a bar and they will be trying to get someone to kick the shit out of me, or get me thrown out.
I'm sure this couldn't possibly be the normal experience otherwise people would never go out to public places.
|>>|| No. 29819
> For reasons I don't understand women I try to engage in conversation in public are without fail irrationally hostile towards me. Put me in a party environment, have a friend break the ice, I am fine. But let me say the first 5 words to the girl next to me at a bar [...]
I don't think I've ever successfully "cold-approached" a girl in my life. I did it once as part of a drunken job interview (really) and once when I was on so much amphetamine I would have had the confidence to invade Russia during winter. Neither time did I get anywhere beyond a minute or two of mildly miffed chatter before I had to make my excuses as I was obviously bothering them.
Social interactions with people you don't know have to happen fluidly/naturally or they will seem forced and the other person is very likely to feel uncomfortable.
Whether you're in the smoking area or at the bar in a pub waiting to be served, or wherever you might be stood next to a nice looking lass you can just smile, say hi and ask how her night's going. If she's in any way interested you'll know, if she's not then no harm, no foul.
Hell, you can even time it so that you're at the bar at the same time as her, but it has to seem natural. If you just wander over to where she's sat and start asking her about how her night's going you're just not going to come over well.
|>>|| No. 29820
Your reply reminded me of the only time I am aware of blacking out from drink, when I regained my senses I was kissing a complete stranger I have no idea how I got into that situation, I wish I knew what drunk me's secret was.
|>>|| No. 29821
It's entirely inhibition release, the "I don't give a fuck" factor. It's so built in that it's almost impossible to fake it, without being some kind of method actor. In fact that's pretty much the same thing by that point. The thing is people can just instinctively tell when it's genuine confidence and spontaneity, and not an attempt to emulate it.
The version of me who exists on a combination of alcohol and cocaine is an absolute madman who is nevertheless endearing enough that the real me wakes up the next day to friend requests on Facebook from strangers in the pub. The only problem is the crippling existential black hole that inevitably follows. It's as though all the embarrassment and shame I did so well without the previous night come flooding back all at once
Self consciousness is probably the root cause of all my social problems.
|>>|| No. 29823
I know exactly where you're coming from and was often concerned about the same thing, needing drugs or alcohol to unlock that side of me. But I've found the older I get, the less of a fuck I give. By my 30th I was very well on my way to being acutely uninhibited sober, and I understand it only improves further as you age even more.
If you're already that age then sorry. I think a lot of it for me was spending my late twenties alternating between shagging and being rejected.
|>>|| No. 29824
> It's entirely inhibition release, the "I don't give a fuck" factor. It's so built in that it's almost impossible to fake it,
That kind of self confidence is extremely powerful but it doesn't confer magical fanny-magnetic super-powers on you. Then again, as it's been said "you miss 100% of the shots you don't take".
The more shots you take then the more success you have, and the more knock-backs you take. Incidentally I think learning how to take a knock-back with grace (and without it harming your self image) is a big part of feeling self-confident in the first place.
I do feel like I'm rambling now so I'll just shut up.
|>>|| No. 29825
Well, 37 this year lads. It seems like the blink of an eye since I was 27, 24. Christ.
2019 was a year that pretty much didn't happen for me; I spent most of it travelling and bouncing from hotel to hotel with no routine.
This year was going to be different. I got back into my routines in December, moved flat to a better area, signed up with a gym just across the road. This was really going to be the year where I made my comeback.
But so much for all that. Last year I was stuck on the north-west coast of America losing my mind over an ex; This year I'm stuck inside and "celebrating" on my jack jones (which to be fair is almost just the way I like it.
Anyway, here I am a year older, fatter, and balder. Here's to 2021 giving us back at least some quality of life.
Skol, lads. Here's to getting fucking older.
|>>|| No. 29828
I'm getting very weary of how whenever you post anything online, the only responses you ever get are snarky smartarse pedants trying to subtly one-up you, even when they're agreeing, or if your original comment was meant positively. Everything always gets taken the wrong way or turned into a debate. I just want a proper conversation.
The usual answer to this would just be "go outside" but even with everything supposedly returning to "normal" it's all still a bit unappealing. I have a hard enough job rounding up a couple of mates for a pint at the best of times, let alone when you have to book in advance, give them your medical records and 5 years of address history before you're allowed in. None of us are the type to do this zoom shit either.
|>>|| No. 29829
I suspect it is part a question of where you are posting. Most online communities are dehumanising ourely based on their scale. I'm not sure what to recommend to you in terms of open communities, they are all pretty dogshit for human connection.
As a lateral thinking solution, just pick up the phone and call someone, like a psychopath.
|>>|| No. 29830
>As a lateral thinking solution, just pick up the phone and call someone, like a psychopath.
You jest, but I honestly feel like just phoning someone out of the blue in the year of our lord 2020 would give the impression I'm on the edge of a mental breakdown.
|>>|| No. 29831
I left facebook a few years ago, and phoning people who I haven't seen in ages to stay in contact instead is much better emotionally.
|>>|| No. 29832
I took my own advise and called a friend out of the blue yesterday, it was great, we talked for an hour about everything and nothing.
in your >>29830 face mental break down boy.
|>>|| No. 29833
All I can do is get high and the only time I feel someway normal is on low doses of LSD. Productivity is shot, I just want to sit and do nothing, to just have time to process everything happening but even days of that don't seem to be enough. I get right back into the real world and I feel terrible, everything's so shit. I know I should pack it in as I'm probably just overdoing the drugs but I honestly can't take being sober at this point. When the weather clears up I'm going to the moors to do a whack load of shrooms and hoping that sorts me out one way or another.
|>>|| No. 29835
Each time i come here to talk about whatever's on my mind, I think fuck it and just load up a videogame or youtube.
It's like i'd just be browsing my mind for something to post. Insincere. Won't commit. It's not really worth the effort to bring something up which can easily sit in a quagmire of percieved problems. Focus on them and they're defined, leave them and it's just soup. Sprinkled with some herbs and it's not so bad.
I don't know if this is a problem. fuck it.
|>>|| No. 29852
I've been feeling miserable since Friday when I ordered a Chinese takeaway of steamed pork buns, Tom Yum soup and curry samosas; all delicious in their own right but they have no business being combined like that. Anyway, a little while ago I read something that made me horny and I don't like being sad and horny, it's just awful.
|>>|| No. 29853
It's the takeaway's fault for offering you such a spectrum of cuisine. Try the Crab Claws and see how good their Yakisoba is.
Also: Stay away from Literotica, Lad. It's no good.
|>>|| No. 29866
Screenshot_2020-07-21 Cedar Walton Clifford Jordan.jpg
People made fun of me when I was a teenager because I held my tongue between my lips when I was drumming so I got embarrassed and stopped. But look at this bloke he doesn't care how he looks. I'm buying an electric drum kit. Fuck it, I don't care if I don't have the room, the spare cash or the physical ability, I'm learning to drum again.
I know it's stupid, but I'm so fucking full of regret all the time. Certain songs or shows make me think of people and opportunities that I let slip away and it's bloody horrible. I can't keep living like this because eventually everything I do will be subject to these anxiety inducing little echoes. The other night I couldn't sleep so I flicked through my MP3 player and ended up listening to The Mighty Boosh, and I enjoyed it, but there are all these cobwebs in my brain get triggered by certain jokes and what have you. I don't know what the fuck I'm saying, but the point is I'm sick and tired of my brain and I'd like a redo.
Also I hate CBT it's a load of shit and everyone who recommends it should die.
I don't know what I'm saying.
|>>|| No. 29867
I get the same thing. I find myself avoiding a lot of things I used to like, even things that were sort of cornerstones of my personality and identity, because they resonate those little uncomfortable memories and bring back the pangs of anxiety, regret, and general angst that it's all slipped away.
I've been making a concerted effort to try start doing stuff again and just push through it, tell it to fuck off when it happens. I hum this little tune under my breath and sometimes sing "hooow about I fuck you in the aaa-aaarse" to myself. They're just intrusive thoughts basically, and all they do is get in the way. You need to find a way of just brushing them off.
Start a new hobby, turn over a new leaf so to speak. Do something that sets you out a new era in life, so you can simply shed those daft old memories away and put them in a box where they can't hurt you. I've started releasing music under a daft new online persona so I don't have to worry about being associated with my old band or anything like that. I started doing Warhammer which is something I hadn't done since I was a kid (before it all went wrong).
Over time I find this lets you revisit things without the uncomfortable resonance of stuff you still care about- You've cut the strands that kept them weighing you down.
|>>|| No. 29868
Open question: How often do you lads see your mates? How many mates would you say you honestly have, excluding the various "acquaintances"? Under normal circumstances I mean, not global pandemic times.
I'm having a hard time judging if I've done something to mortally offend all my friends, if I'm just a boring cunt, or what. But I'm having a hard time organising anything without everyone dropping out at the last minute. I've gradually stopped trying at all, and I thought maybe after months of isolation people would be a bit more willing to hang out so it'd be a good time to start getting more proactive, but that doesn't seem to be the case.
I mean fuck 'em, if they don't want to put the effort in, they don't want to. I'm just not the type to burn bridges and it seems like a shame to just drift apart from people you've known your whole life just because none of you can be arsed with each other.
|>>|| No. 29869
I'm rooting for you. I'm also thinking of getting myself an electric drum kit. I started making music and I'm having a bastard of a time getting the kind of drum sound that I want. Even with software like EZdrummer (which takes out most of the work), it doesn't sound quite right. Figure I may as well learn how to play the drums.
|>>|| No. 29870
If you live in a flat or terraced house do your neighbours a favour and build yourself a noise insulating platform to mount the kit on. You obviously don't get the same noise that an actual drum kit creates, but you're still hammering surfaces. The various bass drum emulating systems in particular have you, effectively, stomping on the ground.
|>>|| No. 29873
Before you dismiss MIDI drums entirely, try a couple of things. The first is mixing samples, the default EZDrummer ones are unbelievably shit. The second is getting a good room impulse response and on recordings, using that like a room mic to fill out the sound. If you're familiar with the process of recording a real drumkit, try to replicate that in your mix.
I've spent the past ten years totally ignoring impulse response technology and assuming it's shit, but it turns out I was just being a stubborn old fashioned git and they're actually nothing short of black fucking magic. Amazing for accurate reverbs and close to indistinguishable to the real thing for simulating speaker cabinets.
|>>|| No. 29874
Not sure I even have any friends; certainly don't see any of them outside work. Haven't ever burnt bridges or fallen out with people, just a long slow drift over the past decade. I am perfectly content with this. I have plenty of hobbies, but I'm not tempted to seek others out and "join a club" - sounds awful to me.
|>>|| No. 29875
>Open question: How often do you lads see your mates? How many mates would you say you honestly have, excluding the various "acquaintances"? Under normal circumstances I mean, not global pandemic times.
At a push I have 2 mates that I'm not liable to see them for years at a time. It's my own fault really, I don't keep in touch. This is what getting old is like, soon as you finish uni the real world hits and you just don't have the time or energy for it. Get a girlfriend or a dog if you're feeling lonely.
I could easily make proper friends at work, people have expressed interest. The thing is I refuse to mix my personal and professional life which seems to be the outlet for other people whereas I just fester on imageboards.
|>>|| No. 29876
I have too many people to keep track of so I don't and that seems to be fine. I'll see a few people a month or so as they come and go from the country or are more or less busy.
|>>|| No. 29881
I feel like I might have made this exact post three years ago, but I really need to stop fancying, and making them fancy me, women who live on the other side of the Earth. Even a hundred-and-fifty mile radius would be a better option. Actually a lot of that is sea, but I'm sure there are a few hotties sailing the oceans.
|>>|| No. 29889
I'm pretty sad that i lost all of my Alan Watts audio files. I know he was a drunk and had issues with his ego, but hell i listened to them almost religiously for hours on end. The sound of his voice has become a kind of guiding, grounding sound that reaches into my heart ('lol', right?), making me feel both depressed and accepted at once. It's really nice in that sad sort of way. I don't know, i'm just feeling something right now I guess.
|>>|| No. 29891
Got drunk at home and decided to go to a pub. What a great recipe for turning your feelings of alienation up to 11.
|>>|| No. 29892
Going to the pub on your own hardly ever works. Unless it's about 1pm on a Sunday, you have a full roast and all the Sunday papers to read - oh god I'm showing my age now, nobody buys a paper anymore.
|>>|| No. 29893
Meh I'd say it has got a 50% chance of paying off sometimes it is a real shit pit and you wonder why you bothered going out. Other times it opens interesting new doors.
Not sure what the situation is like with Covid mind, I've been stuck in perpetual lockdown in Wales, treasurer the pub whilst you can before it is gone again, and remember to finish your pint, There are thirsty lads in Glamorgan.
|>>|| No. 29894
There's no point going to the pub on your own if you can't get coked up and chat shit to strangers. It's no different to drinking alone without that, just noisier.
God I'd love a night out down Westgate right now. Pizza in the back of an ABC taxi on the way home. Fuck me.
|>>|| No. 29895
I wouldn't go to a pub in the evening on my own but I did used to like sitting in a pub during the day time just having a few pints and reading my kindle. If you find the right pub it's definitely a lot less depressing than sitting at home on your own pounding tins. Also if I was at home with a freezer full of tins I wouldn't be reading my kindle, I'd be doing something depressing on the internet while the TV plays something I hate in the background. Just being in the pub allowed me to concentrate on my reading without constant distractions / temptations.
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