Posts by Donna White50

Peter Murphy6 said:Are we really talking about a "slacker life," or is it more about what that lifestyle represents to you?
Did you settle down with a wife or build a career because you actually wanted them, or because of what they symbolize? Who are you trying to prove something to? If you "fail," who are you actually disappointing?

People tend to surround themselves with status symbols to satisfy their cravings, but when they realize those symbols don't actually fulfill them, everything starts feeling pointless.

The "slacker life" doesn't appeal to me at all—I found my freedom somewhere else, deep inside. I used to crave that kind of reckless living back when I was constantly rebelling against my parents, but after that, I swung wildly toward the opposite extreme, again just to push back against them.
Where was "me" in all that?
Where are *you* in all this?
What are you using to validate yourself?

Real success is conquering yourself—so, have you been conquering yourself, or just the ideas your parents had for you?

I didn't "cure" myself of control; I just realized what I can actually handle and what's completely out of my hands. I was basically forced to accept life's uncertainty—it's the only constant I've got.

I just ran out of energy to be afraid.

Either I land on my feet or I don't; honestly, I don't care, there's no middle ground. Besides, I'd rather "die" staying stagnant than just shake it off and move on.

A little blood never hurt anyone—I'm used to it—and the scars are just there to tell the story.
Most people I know (trying to be politically correct here so I don't sound arrogant 🤣 ) find that whatever they grab onto turns out surprisingly well, so I think I'm just waiting for the moment I truly let go and hit the ground. But that won't happen unless I actually "dive in."
I'm looking for failure.

Why are you still fighting with your mother?

I'm not arguing with my mom; I just cut ties with her indefinitely...
Also, looking at it from where I stand now regarding fears, I've conquered a sea of them. There was a time I couldn't even leave the house, but today I walk the streets freely and hold my own with anyone. My emotional side is a bit messy, and I have this drive to fight for myself—I don't know why, maybe because I feel like I don't deserve to be first, so I let others take the best parts and I'll just settle for whatever's left. But damn, the best cuts go first, leaving me with nothing but scraps...
Maybe the fear is just about massive change. I hate change. I hate it when my life gets flipped upside down—it makes me feel helpless, like I'm losing control, knowing I can never go back to how things were...
I'd rather die than just shrug my shoulders and stay put. The old ways satisfy me, even with tiny improvements.

boldnomad45 said:Dear Donna White50, believe me, I had a breakthrough in therapy when I truly realized everything you're saying. I say these things to myself. It was my household's philosophy: impossibly high standards and a total lack of trust in anyone, including myself. That has become my internal monologue. I think these things about myself, and I fear that if I let my guard down, I'll end up a pauper under a bridge, driven to the brink. I show myself zero mercy. I never approach my own thoughts with compassion or understanding; there is only a judging voice telling me I am weak, unworthy, and that I must push harder. That I've failed at everything. My therapist found it painful just to listen to how I talk to myself. It's like those Marine Corps drill instructors—zero warmth, zero empathy, zero kindness. And I was still holding back. It's worse than that. The problem is that my father's bitterness has become my own way of thinking. That's why I have no mercy for myself. That's why we choose people who lack mercy, because that's how we view ourselves. We believe we need more, more intense, more driven, because we think we are weak and inadequate. Even though we work like horses, constantly pushing, faster and harder. Weakness in others irritates me because that judgmental impulse is my inheritance. I don't want to preach; I just want to find that place within myself where I can treat myself with warmth and compassion. With forgiveness and acceptance. The world won't stop spinning if I mess up. If I allow myself to believe I am a good person, that I can relax and be vulnerable sometimes without ending up destitute.

I guess we just don't know any other way. When you look at your life, you see yourself as this guy tilting at windmills, fighting against himself, thinking he's worth absolutely nothing and doesn't deserve to be happy... Because apparently, being happy and satisfied with yourself is something you have to earn after finishing some crazy advanced degree, landing an insane corporate job, and stacking up a mountain of cash. But the reality is the goalposts just keep moving every time you succeed, so happiness stays just as far away... except the hole inside you just gets deeper with every step because despite everything you've achieved, you still haven't found it..

My wife helped close that gap a little during our first few years together; I felt accepted, like I could actually be vulnerable sometimes... But then the psychological bombardment from my parents started hitting just as hard as it did growing up, just wrapped in fancier packaging...
I honestly don't know what my life would look like if I weren't the way I am, but I really don't know... Maybe it's true that I feel like my life isn't worth anything unless I'm being hard on myself. I don't know how to just enjoy being me, my natural self—since my partner was never that high-strung woman, she was always more playful and a bit elusive, because, well, there were no challenges back then... So what am I supposed to do now? Enjoy something that never even caught my attention? How...
It all sounds great on paper—our traumas, the causes behind our specific behaviors, the "recipe" for self-acceptance—but damn it, I don't actually *want* it. It sounds boring, and I don't feel like it would make me happy. I wish it did, but it doesn't... From a masochist's perspective, loving yourself feels incredibly boring and, frankly, pretty uncomfortable...

boldnomad45 said:Where did you get this idea that you'd be a "loser"? Who decided that was the definition? Maybe that's just your own internal monologue right now, but did someone—a father figure, perhaps—criticize you that way? Did their voice become your own?
Why would you be a loser just for trying to build a new life for yourself? Where would you look for, or go to find, things that actually interest you? Even things that are actually joyful?
To give up on what's already mapped out would be the true failure, and that’s what haunts me. But I suspect that's just societal pressure talking. Out there, people don't judge nearly as harshly—neither themselves nor others.

My dad’s whole vibe was basically that I was never going to amount to anything. He truly believed that right up until the end. By his math, I shouldn't have even made it past middle school. He spent all this energy proving that marriage, kids, or anything else "adult" just wasn't in my cards. When I finally knocked out my degree, he acted like it was worthless, even though it was one of the toughest programs in the country. When I met my wife, he actually respected her for a bit because she was the type of person who would tell him straight to his face, but once she was gone, he'd go behind my back... saying she wasn't right for me, or making these gross comments about how she wasn't "classy" enough...
I feel like that curse follows me everywhere, deep down... and part of me, in some weirdly masochistic way, almost wants his prophecies to come true. My marriage is falling apart right now, which feels like proof he was right—that she wasn't the one, or maybe I was just desperately trying to prove him wrong the whole time. Now, I'm putting all this effort into saving what's left, mostly because I'm terrified of seeing the bright spots in my future. This necessary change feels gross, and it's depressing to see how messy life gets for divorced guys. I never wanted this; I always valued love, being a unit, having a family... But now I have to let that vision go, walk alone, and find some kind of purpose for myself—hopefully somewhere away from the losers hanging out at biker bars with toxic women who don't know the first thing about loving someone... It feels like those broken women are the only constant in my life—cold, distant, selfish...
Do people even know what love actually is anymore, or are they just looking for the idea of it?

Peter Murphy6 said:I basically wrote a whole novel here, typical me. 🙄

Let me try to cut to the chase.

First off, being alone doesn't scare me.

Second, death and illness are extreme situations. You can't prep for those.
You can't prepare for every single thing life throws at you; you can only trust yourself to handle it when it happens.
Honestly, this is one of the first things on this forum I feel like I've really processed alongside someone else.

Third, losing a job? 🤣

(That's me, though—I totally get what you're saying)

Those aren't the things that trigger my time bomb.

Life hasn't exactly "started looking up"—if anything, this is the toughest era of my life. Before this, things felt "easy" because I was just oblivious.

Those periods were exactly like what you described. Everything was "great" right until the next crash.
That's why I can see the difference now. An "amazing period" is just an amazing period. Just like a bad period is just a bad period. What I'm talking about is the space above, below, or tucked between those two—inner peace.

I locked that time bomb in an airtight room, then I triggered it myself, and then did it again. I gave *myself* permission to let it go off, so I don't have to worry about anyone else pulling the pin on me.
It isn't a "time bomb" anymore. Now, it's just a bomb. And honestly? A little explosion here and there works for me.

An explosion while the timer is still ticking is way more dangerous, and yeah, that fear is justified. I used to play high stakes, and I could afford the risk.

Who knows what life has in store? No clue.
My fears about the future usually vanish the second I actually say them out loud.

Ever since I realized that, my fears evaporate so easily it actually scares me a little. 😬

Can I live without my fears?
Can you live without your time bomb?
It looks like, at the end of the day, I'm not driven or defined by fear, but by something else entirely.
What about you?

Problems aren't behind me—they're ahead, inside, outside, everywhere. But they aren't the only thing that makes up a life.

I've freed myself from the fear of my own self in that regard, but I hear you loud and clear. I've been there too.

The Short Version 🤦

EDIT: The answer is—I haven't healed, and I haven't just patched things up. From what? From myself? 🐔 Is that even possible?
Too much time has passed to rip out all the pieces of who I am just to replace them with some "ideal version" (you know, the socially acceptable one).

So maybe you did heal from the need to control everything—just let go... and started embracing how unpredictable life can be.
I bet that wasn't an easy road to walk... it’s tough to just throw yourself out there trusting that things will eventually work out.

For me, letting go would mean ditching everything I try to manage—stuff that's actually suffocating me, like my wife, my career, my investments. Basically, I’d be living this totally aimless life, riding motorcycles and getting caught up in shallow flings... In short, I'd basically be a total loser...
It doesn't sound like much of a life, which is why I don't live it. Instead, I'm stuck in a marriage with a woman who doesn't love me, fighting with my mom who really screwed me over, grinding at work just to feel like I've made it, and dreaming about all that—clinging to the illusion that any of it will bring actual happiness, even though I know deep down it won't...
So then I turn to things like tempered bombs and just self-destructing a little, just to prove to myself that some kid actually has worth, because otherwise... I don't really feel that way.
Lately, heartbreak is hitting me pretty hard so I'm feeling a bit wrecked, but regardless... going through a breakup is never easy...

Peter Murphy6 said:Do I really need to lay out my whole life story just to prove "credibility"? Not happening.

Nobody was around to help back when I actually "needed" it—I didn't have any options, so I just had to grit my teeth and figure it out myself. Now that things are looking up and I actually have choices, I just don't feel like it.

And honestly, there are probably plenty of other people out there stuck in the same boat with zero options.

If I’d stumbled upon this thread back when I was commenting on it, man, it would've helped me out big time.

Fair enough, you found your way... but let me ask you, are you sure you're actually healed and not just masking the pain?
Because I went through this amazing stretch in my life where I honestly thought I'd made massive progress and left all my baggage behind. Turns out, I was dead wrong, and it totally bit me in the ass.
Maybe things just finally started looking up for you, which is why you can afford to pass now. But I can tell you for a fact—all that buried stuff eventually needs to come out and be dealt with. If you're actually okay, fine. But if you aren't? It's basically a ticking time bomb just waiting for the right moment to blow up—like losing a job, a breakup, a death in the family, or getting sick...

Peter Murphy6 said:Look, I'm seeing the progress. These last two or three years have built up more of who I am than everything that came before.

One of these days I'll "treat" myself to a session with a pro once I've "finished." Not just because I can, but because I *have* to—I need to be able to explain to myself why I was "messed up" (to me, that's not a permanent mental state, just a temporary one—how does it feel for you?)

At the end of the day, that's your truth, and this is mine—we both chose them for ourselves.
So, what's the priestess's truth?

So, it wasn't even like you were struggling that much—it’s not like you actually needed a hand... But honestly, who’s to say you wouldn't be moving way faster if you did?...

Peter Murphy6 said:Man, I really wanted to push back against that idea—like, why wouldn't you be able to do it yourself? Why are you basically beating yourself up over this?

Then it hit me—wait, am I talking to you or just to myself?

The truth is, the best expert you've got is *you*. You're doing the work right now, and honestly, you're doing it better than anyone else could—nobody can step in and do it for you.

Now I'm starting to wonder... am I even talking to you, or just my own reflection? 🕺

Because it's just the truth. Sure, we all figure things out on our own once someone finally points us in the right direction—once they explain why everything feels so broken, why we act the way we do, or what the root cause is behind all those patterns we picked up growing up in our parents' house...
I guess I think I can handle everything alone, which is probably why therapy isn't clicking for me... but then again, I usually realize I *can't* do it solo, because if I actually could, I wouldn't be sitting here right now. It's all pretty heavy stuff...

Gerald Morgan4 said:OK, perfectly clear why you think maintaining the status quo is better... but look, therapy isn't some magic wand that will instantly fix tectonic shifts in your psyche. It takes time, and above all, it requires accepting change. Otherwise, you're just wasting everyone's time if you're resisting it. You don't have to "pop like popcorn." Start with "small" things. Every bit of emotional progress is a win. I honestly can't fathom how anyone can function like this for so long—giving up on themselves, discarding their emotional self. I get why you do it, really, but the only thing I ever gained from that approach was crippling episodes of depression and anxiety.

It’s tough because I just feel terrible whenever I shut down like that. So far, my therapy has mostly just been about venting anger—which is a huge struggle for me—and trying to untangle my relationships.
I basically tossed my emotional self out the window a few years back, sort of like a total meltdown during some marriage issues. Setting boundaries in superficial or work relationships? No problem there. But when things get deep and emotional, I just lose it—it's like this weird masochistic thing where I can't find my footing. I take the blame way too easily and force myself to feel things so intensely it's actually scary. The worst part is, I don't see anything wrong with it until I realize I've caused myself irreparable damage. I just get lost... I stop thinking straight and ignore my own gut feelings, and the harder I fight against them, the worse it gets...

Matthew Cruz44 said:Gerald Morgan4, when I was talking about empathy and regret, I was actually referring to those self-proclaimed "experts" who, in my honest opinion, don't really fit the bill at all.

As for this whole display of empathy—I mean, sure, in certain high-stress moments it might serve a purpose, but generally speaking, I believe empathy should be a tool we use to actually solve a problem rather than just a performance we put on for others.

Donna White50... Well, I go for my check-ups about once a month. Since I’m just as sharp as you are, I’m perfectly capable of doing some of my own internal work...
I am actively trying to move away from this habit of seeing everything in such strict black-and-white terms.
Why is it so difficult to find the right words? It’s quite simple, really; when you're carrying a heavier burden of pain, you tend to think that if you just try harder, you'll express yourself more beautifully, but instead, you often just end up feeling like a complete idiot.

Nobody ever actually gave you empathy—they just pitied you. That's why you hate it when someone tries to understand or sympathize with you; you feel like they're looking down on you, basically telling you how broken, bad, or worthless you are...
People need love and empathy, just like every kid needs to feel worthy and accepted. I reject it too, which means I'm just pushing away the people who actually want to love me.

You can't do this alone—you need a pro for that. You can't even explain to strangers here what's hurting you, let alone figure out the "why" behind everything happening inside your head. Alone, you can only hibernate—just like me, shutting down where it hurts most instead of actually fixing the problem.

Matthew Cruz44 said:There isn't inherently anything wrong with the concept of "growing up," but there’s certainly nothing inherently good about it either; you can't just assume someone's intentions are pure, because more often than not, malicious motives hide behind a veil of philosophy, flattery, or a desire for control.

Personally, I find myself reacting quite negatively to excessive empathy—that specific kind where I pick up on a vibration from someone that they’re actually just pitying me.

I truly have so much I want to say regarding this subject, and even regarding other topics entirely, yet I simply find myself unable to do so. There are moments when I feel paralyzed, unable to even process a thought. It’s almost as if I have this deep-seated fear of venturing into that inner space where I formulate my actual opinions, feeling somehow inadequate, as if the mere act of voicing something coherent would drain my battery completely and leave me lifeless.
It all traces back to childhood, naturally. I doubt Donna White50 was particularly affected by this flying sensation, though perhaps it struck a nerve so sensitive that she avoids thinking about it just to prevent herself from falling apart.

...There is so much I want to express, so much I want to accomplish... and yet, a part of me wishes it could all just vanish. I don't mean that in a suicidal sense, but quite literally, I am terrified of the sheer exhaustion it requires; growing up, I was constantly being dragged into these long-lasting domestic scandals and shouting matches, and I’d wake up the next day feeling like a small child, lacking any energy to pull myself together.
And now, here I am, getting all tangled up in my own thoughts... falling into that same foolish, childish pattern of dwelling on the past. I honestly don't know why

I could have written a post detailing what I truly intend to say—about the fear of abandonment—but I refrained for two specific reasons:

First, I wouldn't have been able to pull it off,

And second, even if I had succeeded, I would still end up alone regardless.

In either scenario............................... I’ll just write another post properly later.

Are you going to therapy...?
Just one question. Since it's so hard for you to wrap your head around this and actually say it, why do you think that is?
Do you think that if you finally find the right words and let it all out, it'll kill the pain? Or is it just shame because you can't express it the way you want to... making you feel like you're messed up because of it?
That's how it is for me in therapy—I'm speechless, I don't know how to put it into words, so I just keep saying "maybe next time."
But really, the important thing is just to start letting it out, even if it's messy and awkward...

Thomas Campbell5 said:🤣🤣

I deal with the exact same thing quite often. I find that I can only truly function once I've pushed my emotions aside.
The problem is that I’m completely blind to my own mess. It’s not like gaining some sort of clarity or self-awareness is going to provide me any relief—it certainly won't fix this constant state of anxiety. 😁).

When it comes to individuality, I make it a point to view every single person as a unique entity. Because of that, I grant that right to everyone—including myself. 🤣🤣)

Have you ever actually studied this stuff professionally?
Once you finally wrap your head around the causes and effects, things get way easier to handle—you can just tackle them step by step. But if you aren't self-aware, you end up just running away from your emotions... and eventually, that's gonna catch up to you.

Joseph Bailey41 said:Of course you aren't. Honestly, I was trying to think of an animal to compare you to... but I can't find one that wallows in its own imaginary misery quite as much as you do. What is actually bothering you, besides being hooked on your meds? Please don't start with the "my mom didn't breastfeed me enough" routine, or how you spent your teenage years obsessing over adult magazines your dad hid under his mattress... Tell me what's genuinely hurting you right now. Are you drowning in debt? Do you, your wife, and your kid have enough food on the table? Do you have running water, enough money for the heat, or is someone at work making your life a living hell while you're too afraid to quit because you'd all end up on the street? Are you actually hungry for anything, other than our attention?🍿

Look, not every mental health struggle starts because someone took out a massive loan they can't pay back—turning their entire life into a nightmare just to collect a folder full of medical diagnoses. I guess I’ve grown up a little more than you have in that department... Before you go labeling someone else's genuine pain and suffering as just some "immature cry for attention," maybe take a second to look in the mirror. You seem pretty immature yourself, honestly—especially with how you love to lecture everyone else from that high horse of yours. It must feel pretty great, though... tossing judgment around like it's clothing, just to feel a tiny bit of satisfaction in the middle of your own mess...
Look, I’m really not in any better spot than you are—that's exactly why I'm here. Nobody hangs out in places like this just because they're bored or life is suddenly perfect... it's usually because they're dealing with their own stuff, fighting those internal battles and, more often than not, losing them...
My parents spent my whole life telling me I was stupid and that I didn't have any actual problems—just like you’re claiming right now—all while I was literally dying from depression. I spent years just gritting my teeth, forcing myself to go to school knowing I’d just get bullied by everyone again. They really convinced me that being in this state was totally normal... so I thought I just had to suck it up and stay quiet. I figured everyone lived life feeling depressed, humiliated, picked on, hopeless, rejected, and alone... It took me forever to realize that isn't how life is supposed to be, or what it actually means to be happy and content. But I also realized I was using masochism to cope with the pain—that I have this urge to tear down everything I've built, that I struggle with people, and that I constantly deny my own needs just because I feel like my only purpose is to please everyone else. It’s not even about needing attention—you’re just too clueless to see that—I just act cocky so people will punish me for it. So, tell me... who am I actually even talking to on this forum?
You talk about "growing up"... Man, that sounds great in theory—like you just wake up one morning and suddenly decide you're an adult. But honestly? Some people just don't have the tools for it. They don't really grasp what self-love or actual responsibility looks like, so the whole concept of "maturing" feels totally alien to them. Then you've got others who get it perfectly fine, but they still just... can't make it happen. If it were actually that simple, therapy wouldn't be a years-long grind for so many people...
I'm really hoping you just close out that loan already—then the next day, you can finally feel happy, light, and like you actually have your life together...

Joseph Bailey41 said:No worries at all. Here, have a hunchback instead. It's on the house. 🙂

I'll pass on the gift—I'm not exactly a saint

Joseph Bailey41 said:If that’s really how it works, then you’re just average. People who have dealt with much heavier trauma but still manage to function okay in society—you know, they aren't just struggling to get by on the streets—they all have the same kind of internal processor. They compensate for one thing with another, add a third element to balance it out, a fourth to be acceptable to others, a fifth to feel okay with themselves, and eventually, it all just ends up being 2+2=4.

In other words, sorry, but you aren't special. Emotional numbness has been "in style" for so long that it isn't even cool anymore. ☕

Man, I would trade my diagnosis for yours in a heartbeat—you can take mine, no questions asked... and I’ll even throw in 90% of the other crap I didn't mention here, or even to a psychiatrist, since I highly doubt there’s anyone out there with enough
grit to listen to the full details. I bet even your doctor would get sick of it pretty fast and tell you, "No thanks, you're actually unique in how messy this is..."

Seriously, I wouldn't wish my life path on my worst enemy if you're being real... though I'm not judging, I've lived with my own mess for so long that compared to me, your little struggles feel like child's play...

Gerald Morgan4 said:It’s good to see others here actually managing this mess despite all the absolute chaos we’ve endured. I truly believe that through relentless, long-term therapy—where you actually dive headfirst into those terrifying emotional whirlpools and untangle the knots you've spent years tying—you can almost entirely wipe out the suffering. The catch? You can't fight the process. That is incredibly hard. Dealing with the raw emotions and the fallout is brutal. But look, if it took us a lifetime to weave this massive web of toxic mental habits, it’s going to take just as long to unravel it and find some semblance of balance again.

I think anyone can do this. It really just comes down to how much time, effort, energy, and willpower they’re willing to pour into such a long process. Honestly, it’s a tragedy when people let these patterns calcify so deeply that they become totally oblivious; at that point, working with them in therapy becomes a nightmare. In most cases, I believe the price we pay for building those walls against trauma is simply too high.

It’s great that you’re seeing all of this clearly, Donna White50, including all those self-destructive habits and emotions you're dealing with. That’s the first step, obviously. You’re acting intelligently based on what you learn, and looking at your posts in other threads, it seems like you've managed to maintain a normal family life—and a normal life in general—despite everything. I think you’ve already achieved so much just by doing that. You’re clearly stronger than you give yourself credit for, even with those deep wounds from your childhood. I don't know you personally, but some of this hits close to home for me. It’s perfectly fine to feel this confused right now; it's often just a side effect of those subconscious processes where we start processing heavy emotions and experiences. For instance, I wasn't always aware that certain moves I made were driven specifically by that intense sense of confusion and disorientation.

Look, you say it’s impossible to work with you. Fine. I completely get the resistance toward any attempt to "mess around" with all that stuff. But once you strip away all the defenses and the rationalizations, the final call is entirely yours. Because, frankly, I don't think you'd even realize that what you're saying is truly absolute and categorical—just so 😉

I just can't afford to fall apart. And the truth is, I fall apart the second I scratch beneath the surface. And that breakdown looks like this: right now, I'm functional—I handle my life, my job, my kid, my family, I put in the overtime if the job needs it... but the moment I start poking at my emotions, or a bad memory, or even just thinking about them for a second, I turn into a completely different person. I literally crumble. I can't get out of bed, I can't work, I can't take care of my child, my focus goes to zero, I feel empty and drained of any energy, and then the nightmares, the anxiety, and the pure dread kick in...
At 38, with everything going on in my life—especially now with my little one needing me, and after losing my dad without even fully processing it, and with my marriage hitting serious rough patches—I simply cannot allow myself to break down. I can't just say, "whatever, let the emotions and the traumas I've suppressed for 30 years wash over me" and hope the flood clears everything out...
I'd probably end up on heavy meds and stuck in a psych ward...
Right now, I’m basically just operating like a robot—zero emotion, either that or I just completely fall apart. My emotional tank is totally empty... I’m trying so hard not to feel anything at all, which means I’m burying even the good stuff deep down, not just the bad...
The only thing keeping me going is my own brain, honestly. Being smart enough to recognize when things are going south helps, and then I use whatever techniques I can find to chill out and channel the anxiety—it's basically just firefighting at this point...

I know deep down that one day I’m gonna snap like a dry twig and never quite pull myself back together. But what am I supposed to do? Lose my job? Spend years on heavy-duty antidepressants just trying to piece together all these different versions of myself while my kid watches me struggle like this? No way... I just can't...

That’s my biggest fear too. Honestly, even after three or four years of therapy, I haven't come anywhere close to untangling it...

It all started with this one night of pure trauma where my parents basically abandoned me—they just didn't show up when they were supposed to, leaving me alone for hours. Since they'd spent so much time before then threatening me, telling me I was bad or that I deserved to be left alone, I totally spiraled thinking they actually did it. They found me in a state of complete shock, just completely broken. After that, it was months of being unable to sleep alone, dealing with their aggression toward a kid who "wasn't normal" or was "sick" and "exhausting" because of his fears—but for me, the fears just kept stacking on top of each other. There was no professional help back then; they just tried to force the trauma down. Around that same time, I was first getting exposed to sexual themes and porn, and that's when the masochism started—deep, emotional, and sexual...
I think I might be one of those rare cases where everything collided during that specific phase of life, and honestly, most psychiatrists can't seem to unravel that knot of trauma and sexuality...
That fear of abandonment is what triggers my anxiety attacks today. I'm constantly popping Xanax just trying to keep my head above water. It doesn't matter how deep I breathe; the reality is that my ego just shatters into a thousand pieces. It isn't just the fear of being left behind, though—it's this pervasive masochism that's woven into every single fiber of my being. It's like this endless tug-of-war where one part of me wants to sink and drown, while the other is desperately fighting to stay afloat...
This constant struggle, this dancing on the edge of life and death, has become a defining trait for me. It's my way of trying to exert control—this fake sense of control meant to preserve the "self," vent tension, and smooth over that terrifying dread of falling apart when someone leaves...
I’d say, on average, I’m way more messed up than the typical person dealing with these fears, but I compensate for it way more than the average guy. My therapist is baffled by how much I've bottled up all these years, and how I swap out feelings—replacing sadness with laughter, love with sacrifice, and anxiety with sex... It's like having a computer that calculates 2+2=4, but for me, the math comes out as some weird, broken equation that somehow still equals four...
Because of all this, working through it with myself feels impossible. You'll only solve your problem if you actually face the trauma head-on and dedicate yourself to it—being clear, open, and not afraid of the pain, so you can finally embrace and accept that wounded child inside...
But me? I don't know anymore. I don't know where that child ends and where I begin, where my beginning meets my end, or even what I'm actually feeling or what my emotions are made of. It's a puzzle that makes zero sense, and honestly, nobody—not even me—can make sense of it anymore...

Joseph Bailey41 said:With a spark, you're laughing; with alcohol, you're picking fights. 😁

Me? Alcohol just makes me laugh first, then I pass out...🍿
And honestly, I'm a total mess for two days straight after that...
Don't need any drama from my end...

Joseph Bailey41 said:It really comes down to the region. In places where people are constantly drinking heavy amounts of cheap booze, it’s no surprise that things don't always work quite as they should down there. For everything else, honey and walnuts usually do the trick.

As for the women's side of things, the situation was actually a bit darker, so I’d only recommend the following link to those with a strong stomach:

http://www.nytimes.com/articles/abortion-in-rural-america

I don't even want to think about where you find all these deep dives...
Alcohol is great, though—at least it keeps you laughing...

Joseph Bailey41 said:Again, you totally missed the point. Just because they didn't know the medical terms for certain body parts doesn't mean they didn't know how to enjoy them.

And that was just in the countryside; in the cities, there was already all kinds of fetishism going on. If they didn't have lube, they used butter—what do you think made the dairy maids so popular? 🙂

Joseph Bailey41, man, I honestly had no clue, and I grew up in the rural stretches of the Central Valley...🤦
When I finally moved to the city, I was pretty much clueless about sex because back then, before everyone started overthinking everything, sex was just biological—it was natural, without all the fetishism and other nonsense that comes from being disconnected and having a twisted view of sexuality. It’s a way healthier environment than the city, where you've got everything from rapists and hookers to total creeps and whatnot.
Trust me, sex used to be a huge taboo, but everyone was still hooking up because sex isn't some complex science. Nowadays, we try to turn it into a science, competing to see who can be the most perverse, and we basically turn ourselves into idiots. People out in the countryside don't deal with constant issues with potency, stamina, premature ejaculation, or infertility... just ask yourself why... And sure, cheating has always existed, but it wasn't a lifestyle like it is today... because if Mark knocks you up, nine months later there's a little Mark running around, and you're well and truly screwed...

Joseph Bailey41 said:I think you're missing the mark a little—plenty of people are still experts at wielding those shovels, myself included. But we have to distinguish between love, basic tools, and the power struggles that happen within relationships. None of the stories we hear about the FBI or local law enforcement bring anything truly new to the table... all of this happened a hundred years ago, too. The only difference is that back then, people didn't vent their business on Facebook; they handled it privately. All the infidelity, the manipulation, the sexual issues, the paranoia... it was all there. People were just much more discreet. They tried to maintain a decent public image so they wouldn't embarrass themselves in front of their neighbors, or later, their grandkids. Generally speaking, there was a sense of basic decency. What we see now feels like pure exhibitionism. It's as if nobody knows how to do anything anymore without posting a photo of it on social media or jumping on a forum to describe every single detail.

Exactly, man... give me a break. A century ago, folks in rural towns were living much simpler lives, barely able to read or write, let alone knowing what a clitoris is or anything about lube or protection. They just did things the way they knew how, instinctively—if a guy felt the urge, he dealt with it, five minutes later he was done, and that was the end of it. Who even knew about contraception back then? And who was out hooking up with people from three towns over? My grandma wouldn't have dreamed of cheating on my grandpa; she had more than enough with him, even if she wanted to get away from him sometimes...
It's only with the "advancement" of civilization and those messed-up sexual revolutions that you see this massive spike in hookups, players, STIs, and AIDS... these are the diseases of a modern society that has no idea how to respect the dignity of the body and soul, where sex is just some nightly entertainment with a random person and some plastic surgery...

Everyone seems terrified of the shovel these days, and I'm not talking about digging in the garden—I mean those mental movies, that essential life struggle where you realize you actually have to step up and be responsible for yourself and your life...
Everyone thinks they're so damn smart nowadays, but they just end up looking like even bigger idiots...