1084 posts shown.
Donna White50 said:I've never really understood it myself—it's like, one minute it's pure chaos, and the next, everything just clicks perfectly...🤔
Matthew Castillo5 said:For me, perfectionism has absolutely nothing to do with being tidy or organized. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
It hits me hardest when I’m working on something academic, like a research paper. That intense drive to make everything flawless ends up paralyzing me; I either can't write a single word, or I end up producing some half-baked nonsense because I've spent all my energy procrastinating instead of actually working. 😵
The other way it shows up—though I wouldn't call it a major issue—is in my digital communication. Whether I'm posting on a forum, sending a Text Messaging, or using WhatsApp or Messenger, I have this compulsion to ensure every capital letter, every bit of punctuation, and every space is perfectly placed. I can't stand typos; they just have to be right.
Matthew Castillo5 said:For me, perfectionism has absolutely nothing to do with being tidy or organized. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
It hits me hardest when I’m working on something academic, like a research paper. That intense drive to make everything flawless ends up paralyzing me; I either can't write a single word, or I end up producing some half-baked nonsense because I've spent all my energy procrastinating instead of actually working. 😵
The other way it shows up—though I wouldn't call it a major issue—is in my digital communication. Whether I'm posting on a forum, sending a Text Messaging, or using WhatsApp or Messenger, I have this compulsion to ensure every capital letter, every bit of punctuation, and every space is perfectly placed. I can't stand typos; they just have to be right.
Matthew Castillo5 said:So, I guess I'm clearly not a "real" (or rather, a perfect) perfectionist. It actually amuses me when I mess something up spectacularly; I'm really only a perfectionist about certain specific things.
What actually sends me into a spiral isn't failing to do something perfectly—it's when my perfectionism causes me to freeze up entirely or miss a deadline altogether.
Jeffrey Ramos4 said:Give yourself permission to fail. What would actually happen if you did fail at something important to you (aside from just feeling bad)? Like, looking at this realistically. Are these your own expectations, or are they just pressures coming from everyone else?
Justin Garcia7 said:Perfectionism and procrastination are so closely linked—it’s hard to tell which one causes the other. I suspect it all comes down to how we chase instant gratification. I’ve struggled with both, but once I shifted my perspective, I stopped chasing either.
driftingscout49 said:I find myself retreating from our domestic news portals and television networks—or at least most of them—simply because the quality of content has steadily eroded. Rather than passively consuming whatever is fed to me, I have adopted a more surgical approach: I select specific topics of interest, conduct my own targeted research, and seek out specialized programming. Occasionally this involves delving into grim subject matter, though I make a conscious effort to steer clear of any media that relies on cheap sensationalism to grab attention.
When it comes to tragic news, it is truly disheartening to see how American digital outlets have reduced genuine human suffering to nothing more than another clickbait headline. This is particularly egregious in the wake of tragedies, where the privacy and dignity of grieving families are frequently sacrificed just to shock the public and drive up engagement metrics. There is a profound paradox here: I believe this constant barrage actually numbs the average reader or viewer over time, effectively eroding their capacity for empathy. Between the relentless cycle of news coverage and the violent depictions in cinema, we are being systematically desensitized. Such harrowing scenes become normalized, eventually being treated as mere statistics. It creates this strange, detached illusion that these horrors are happening somewhere else, to someone else entirely.
The original poster, along with those who still manage to hold onto their sense of empathy despite everything, represents to me what a healthy human response to tragedy should look like. Of course, if that empathy morphs into a paralyzing daily fear, an obsession, or an inability to function, then we are facing a different issue altogether. In those instances, I believe rationalization becomes necessary. We live in a world surrounded by such horrors, and while we cannot be entirely immune to them, we must learn to accept them as an inherent part of the human experience.
Jamie Adams6 said:It's less active than some other subreddits, probably because I also mostly hang out in one specific thread (likely the same one you're reading). Honestly, even that "politics-adjacent" PDF is more interesting than the main feed, but whatever—I get what you mean.
my guess: spirituality, DZ, and maybe... alternative stuff? 🤔
or like, when a group of Americans gets a slap on the wrist after beating Luke Ritz because they're all part of the same crowd, getting light sentences just because of their hair color or the music they vibe to—and you're sitting there wondering when justice will actually catch up to people like us... 🎉ignorance is bliss.
Jamie Adams6 said:It’s actually easier to just list what I’ve got left—mostly politics, US history, psychology, Philosophy, spirituality, religion, social sciences, plus movies and sci-fi. I’ve already knocked out the rest with partial credit.
I kept a few of them on my list just for kicks—you know, things to flip through when I can't sleep—but that's about it. Like US history, religion, Philosophy, and sci-fi... though honestly, I doubt I'll ever actually write anything for Philosophy. Still, sometimes you just crave that kind of deep read.
Jamie Adams6 said:There’s this Bergman's movie about a guy who just loses it when he finds out the Chinese are building an atomic bomb—he can't handle the weight of it. His wife is pregnant and loves him, but it doesn't matter; his faith in civilization is so shattered by the bomb that he ends up taking his own life. This whole topic kind of hit me with those same vibes.
In my other thread, I mentioned how this weird emotional numbness basically protects me from stressing over stuff like the riots in Paris or things totally out of my control. I can't even say I feel bad, because honestly, I don't really feel regret anymore. Still, some things manage to slip through that armor, so I've realized it's better to be picky about what I let in. Nowadays, it's mostly the shallow, primitive stuff that gets under my skin—specifically "stupid" people who aren't even bothered by the fact that they're being clueless. All the emoji-only chats, the spam, the total lack of depth, and people just acting on impulse without thinking twice about what they're saying...
I gotta admit, I'm partly to blame here too, since I sometimes find myself wondering just how low things can go—so I keep reading and watching instead of just tuning it all out. It's like when you're driving and see a dead cat on the road; you know exactly what it's gonna look like, but you still slow down, stare, and then regret looking.
A bit of mental blocking is actually what works best for me. I stay away from news sites except for sports, and here on the forum, I even asked Carl Cox3 to filter out everything except the threads where this kind of mindless chatter is impossible. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but it actually works.
Jerry Wilson13 said:So, I’m starting this thread in the hope that maybe—just maybe—the little coping mechanisms you all use in your daily "struggle against reality" might offer some inspiration or a bit of encouragement to me.
It’s happening to me again... I log onto Facebook just to check a quick notification or finish some paperwork, and then—boom—the avalanche hits. It’s like this endless flood of news about everything going on in the world, and it just leaves me feeling bitter. It’s that heavy sense of helplessness... and more often than not, it just turns into pure sadness.
Whether I’m scrolling through some news site, flipping through channels on the TV, or just catching up with my neighbor on the sidewalk... it doesn't matter. Anywhere, anytime, with anyone—the conversation always hits the same wall. It's just the same endless cycle of daily or weekly horrors unfolding across the world.
Since I’m someone who wears my heart on my sleeve—honestly, I’ve always been pretty emotional and high-strung—it hits me so hard sometimes that I just can't seem to pull myself together. It leaves me feeling totally shaken. I keep asking myself: Have I taken things too far? Is this all weighing on me because I’m overthinking everything, or am I just struggling to handle this massive tidal wave of emotion hitting my psyche? 🙂
It’s honestly so hard for me to come to terms with living in a world like this.
I’m not depressed. Honestly, I still find plenty of joy in the little things that happen every single day... I’m fully aware that there’s a silver lining to everything. But, you know, there are just those days where everything feels heavy and I just shut down.
I recently came across this beautiful poem by Jack Gilbert, and I have to say, it actually helped me see things through a slightly more optimistic lens—even if that lingering sense of helplessness hasn't quite faded away yet...
How much does the daily flood of news about all those horrors happening around the world actually weigh on you? Honestly, I find myself wondering how everyone else manages to process it all. How do you even begin to control that influx, or find some way to accept the sheer weight of it?
Thanks in advance for every single post.
Yeah, maybe some people would actually find comfort in reading this poem:
A Brief for the Defense
Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies...
It isn’t that people are starving somewhere else—it’s that they are starving right here.
Somewhere else entirely. Just drifting through life with flies stuck in their nostrils.
But honestly, we find joy in our lives because that's exactly what God intends for us.
If things were any different, those quiet mornings right before the summer sun starts to peek over the horizon just wouldn't feel the same.
It’s just been crafted so perfectly. Even The Bengal tiger wouldn't be able to resist it.
It’s just been crafted so incredibly well. The poor Women AT The fountain ara laughing together between The suffering They have known and The awfulness in their futur.
The poor Women AT The fountain ara laughing together between The suffering They have known and The awfulness in their futur
The poor Women AT The fountain ara laughing together between The suffering They have known and The awfulness in their futur.
In their future, they're just there, smiling and laughing even while someone else...
The whole town feels like it’s falling ill. Everything is just... heavy. But even then, there is laughter.
There is Laughter every day in The terrible streets of Calcutta , and The Women laugh in The cages of Bombay
There is Laughter every day in The terrible streets of Calcutta , and The Women laugh in The cages of Bombay.
If we choose to turn our backs on our own happiness—if we actively push away any sense of fulfillment or satisfaction—what are we actually gaining? It feels like a hollow victory, doesn't it? We spend so much energy fighting against the good things, almost as if we're afraid that enjoying ourselves will somehow invite trouble. But resisting joy isn't some kind of moral high ground; it’s just self-sabotage. I can't help but wonder why we do this to ourselves. Is it fear? Or is it just a habit of staying in the struggle because it's all we know?
We tend to downplay just how much they’re actually losing.
We have to be willing to gamble on delight. Sure, we can survive without pleasure, but what's the point?
It isn't about finding some fleeting moment of pure delight or simple enjoyment. That’s not the point at all. What we actually need—what we truly must have—is something much deeper than that.
It takes a certain kind of stubbornness, doesn't it? That refusal to let go of our own joy, even when we're surrounded by something completely ruthless. It’s like a quiet act of rebellion against a world that just wants to grind us down.
The furnace of this world. To make injustice the only...
It seems like we’re all just measuring our own focus by how much we end up praising the Devil.
If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
Honestly, we really ought to be grateful that when the end finally comes, it actually carries some weight. It shouldn't just fade out into nothingness; it needs that sense of scale.
We really have to face the fact that, even when everything else is falling apart, there’s still going to be music.
Once more, we find ourselves standing right at the edge, peering out from the bow of a tiny little vessel.
Anchored deep in the night within that cramped little harbor.
Gazing out toward that sleeping island: the waterfront.
It’s just three boarded-up coffee shops and a single, lonely streetlamp flickering in the dark.
To catch that faint, rhythmic splash of oars cutting through the absolute silence... just you and the rowboat.
It’s that slow, agonizing crawl toward something meaningful—reaching out, getting just close enough to touch, only to have it pull back again. You have to wonder: is that hesitation actually worth the wait? Is there value in that rhythmic coming and going, or are we just spinning our wheels?
All those upcoming years of pure heartache.
mistydrifter55 said:🤣🙂
I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
I spent a good chunk of high school dealing with thoughts just like these.
As my life circumstances shifted, my headspace shifted too.
There was always something spinning around in my brain—it evolves depending on what I'm going through, and yeah, it can get pretty creative.
It kind of pisses me off how every tiny little movement or quirk now has its own cataloged diagnosis, just so doctors can crunch numbers and navigate this whole nightmare.
Any thought that doesn't involve hurting yourself or someone else really ought to be considered "normal."
The real question is, what does "normal" even mean anymore? 🤔
Andrew Doyle said:Yes, I have figured it out. They flare up when I'm under heavy stress or when anxiety and depression decide to kick down my front door. When those episodes hit, the thoughts just come crashing in. My medication has stabilized the anxiety and depression, so as far as my brain chemistry goes, I'm finally "level."
As for lithium—no, I haven't taken that. And frankly, I hope I never have to. I feel like I’ve already crossed some kind of threshold where I could easily spiral straight into the absolute abyss of mental illness.
Joseph Bailey41, I didn't realize either that so many things I considered totally normal and natural actually had specific psychiatric labels. It really is a case of the less you know, the more convinced you are that you're perfectly sane. 😁
For instance, I used to view my bouts of derealization and depersonalization as something almost interesting—a sort of lucid, creative facet of my personality that helped me channel my artistic side... until I sat down with the professionals and got handed a formal diagnosis.
Jerry Robinson56 said:Those are merely the "aftershocks" that trigger larger waves; if you dig just a little deeper, you eventually arrive at the root cause. You know the old adage—conquer yourself and you have conquered the world.
It truly begs the question: why subject yourself to such torment if you aren't causing harm to anyone else?
🙂
🤣 Don't worry; they deal with these issues too, they are simply better trained to manage them.
One cannot even fathom how thin that line actually is, despite their insistence on maintaining "professionalism." Regardless, one should strive to avoid inflicting pain upon oneself or others... it brings clarity...
*unless it is absolutely essential
Susan James said:But honestly, isn't everyone a little bit flawed? What's so weird about that?
My issue is that traditional religious education teaches kids that if they mess up, they can just go to confession and be done with it. But kids who actually think deeply and take responsibility for their actions realize that saying "sorry" isn't enough; you actually have to fix the damage you caused. That's a lesson kids should be learning from the start.
I also see a problem with teaching religion to children before they turn twelve, especially when the lessons are superficial and lack any real-life application (which is a huge issue, considering how many people claim to be religious in the US but don't actually live it out).
Regarding this snippet (which some online commenters pointed out might not even be from an 8th-grade textbook), I think it's actually a valid topic for discussion for 14-year-olds. Kids are observant; they see what's happening around them and are pretty good at spotting who is being selfish.
Especially regarding the topic of Confirmation, which usually happens around that age...
It gets even more complicated during those visits to nursing homes or when they collect donations for vulnerable groups during class. It creates this divide between the kids who are willing to help and those who aren't. And since they aren't being taught empathy outside of those specific moments, they often don't know how to help once they leave the classroom... but that ultimately comes down to the schools.
And the principals.
Andrew Doyle said:I get these bizarre, intrusive thoughts while I’m driving—specifically right when I’m hitting a curve. I find myself vividly imagining that I just won't straighten the wheel. Instead, I’ll floor the accelerator, smash straight through the guardrail, and end up Flying into the abyss at 3 PM. It’s some pretty intense imagery ☕
. Fortunately, my current medication regimen has managed to push those impulses out of the spotlight.
I'm not quite sure what you mean by "eL2." Could you clarify that for me? I want to make sure I'm following along correctly before I respond. [Username] says:
I’ve been sitting here thinking about this lately, and honestly, it feels like we need to have a serious conversation about how we view the universe. It’s easy to get caught up in our own little bubbles—our jobs, our errands, our daily stresses—but when you step back, there's this overwhelming sense that we might be looking at everything through a very narrow lens. There’s this idea floating around that people tend to view the cosmos as if it were built specifically for us. We look at the stars and see patterns, or we look at the vastness of space and try to find ourselves in it. It’s almost as if we assume God the egoist designed the entire mechanics of existence just to serve as a backdrop for the human drama. It’s a bit much, isn't it? To think that all this complexity—the physics, the expanding galaxies, the sheer scale of it—is somehow centered on our tiny corner of the map. I know I’m probably being a bit too deep for a random thought, and I can already hear myself sounding like a philosopher in a coffee shop, but I truly believe we need more humility. Science keeps showing us how small we actually are. Every time we peel back a layer of understanding, the universe gets bigger and we get smaller. Instead of acting like the protagonists of a cosmic epic, maybe we should just accept that we’re observers in a much larger, much more indifferent system. It’s not about being cynical; it’s about being realistic. There’s a certain kind of peace in realizing that the world doesn't revolve around us. It takes the pressure off, in a way. We don't have to carry the weight of the universe on our shoulders because, frankly, we aren't even close to holding it.
I think some people turn to atheism simply because they enjoy the feeling of being their own moral compass. There’s a certain ego in wanting to play God—deciding for yourself what counts as right and wrong without having to answer to any higher authority. Anyone who thinks their own ego is the center of the universe is just God the egoist..
Let’s be honest: egoists can be pretty unpleasant to deal with. We’ve all been there, stuck in a room with someone who thinks they're the center of the universe. To me, it almost feels like egoists are naturally atheists. It just makes sense—their worldview is so narrow that there simply isn't any room in it for anyone greater, smarter, more beautiful, or even more deserving of respect than themselves.It’s actually a Quote taken straight from a religious studies textbook, and it's been blowing up on social media lately, sparking a ton of heated debates.
Is God the egoist? I’ve been sitting here thinking about it lately. When you look at the scale of everything, there isn't anyone above Him. He stands entirely alone—the singular, greatest, most beautiful, and smartest being in existence. It makes you wonder if that level of absolute supremacy carries a certain kind of divine selfishness.
Who does God believe in?
Is God an atheist?
So, let's talk about religious education in our public elementary schools.
neonsailor26 said:"There was a time when a cigar was just a cigar."
When my therapist asked me if I ever dealt with any particularly strange thoughts, I didn't hold back—I told him straight up that I frequently find myself fantasizing about taking out my enemies, only to have them somehow crawl back to life again and again...
He immediately scribbled something down in his notepad.
I never did get around to asking him exactly what he wrote...
Lisa Jackson7 said:God doesn't need defending... but seriously, that’s not just a religious thing.
When you're visiting somewhere with different customs, you don't go around insulting the host's traditions—even if they seem weird to you. It's just basic decency and respect.
How easy that actually is to pull off? That's the real question, but... you gotta show some good faith.
Sure, public spaces today aren't as strictly divided as they used to be—and honestly, they shouldn't be—but still, it's not impossible to set some ground rules that everyone could live by.
Tyler Mitchell60 said:It’s all just part of the mechanism. Identifying your entire ego with some random ideology. What a joke. It’s a cluster of ideas, really. You start feeling like the ideology is actually you—part of your DNA—so when someone calls out your position, you take it as a personal hit. You snap back to defend yourself, but you're really just defending a bubble of thoughts that your ego decided to latch onto.
Why would an atheist's attitude and their critique of a massive set of ideas even bother someone who believes?
If faith is enough on its own, there’s really nothing left to defend.
Even a believer will feel bad for an atheist—not just because they're headed straight for Jesus's hell, but because they're missing out on all the good stuff that faith brings to a believer's life.
Why do believers lose their minds the second you poke fun at Jesus, God, the Bible, the Quran, Krishna, some guru, or Muhammad?
People really love tying their whole identity to an ideology—it’s all about the aesthetic and the ego, none of it actually being about what they believe.
wearyowl29 said:Honestly, I think conservatives are basically immune to that kind of logic naturally.🤣
Lisa Green522 said:It’s all just part of the mechanism. Identifying your entire ego with some random ideology. What a joke. It’s a cluster of ideas, really. You start feeling like the ideology is actually you—part of your DNA—so when someone calls out your position, you take it as a personal hit. You snap back to defend yourself, but you're really just defending a bubble of thoughts that your ego decided to latch onto.
Why would an atheist's attitude and their critique of a massive set of ideas even bother someone who believes?
If faith is enough on its own, there’s really nothing left to defend.
Even a believer will feel bad for an atheist—not just because they're headed straight for Jesus's hell, but because they're missing out on all the good stuff that faith brings to a believer's life.
Why do believers lose their minds the second you poke fun at Jesus, God, the Bible, the Quran, Krishna, some guru, or Muhammad?
People really love tying their whole identity to an ideology—it’s all about the aesthetic and the ego, none of it actually being about what they believe.
Lawrence Bailey77 said:Man, that’s heavy. 😲
I honestly can't imagine what someone has to go through to end up in that kind of headspace. 😢
Sam Martinez9 said:It isn't the sense of belonging that’s being threatened; rather, it’s our ability to choose which community we actually belong to.
Belonging is a profound feeling—an incredibly intense one. If I were to rank it, I’d place it right up there with the primal fear of death. At least, that’s my take on it.
I’ve mentioned before that it's difficult to distinguish between what is innate and what we absorb from our social environment, but if certain emotions are indeed passed down genetically, then a sense of communal belonging might very well be one of them.
To put it simply: everyone wants to belong to *their* community.
The real complication arises when we try to define exactly what constitutes "*our*" community.
With family, there is rarely any ambiguity—the people we are born to, our blood relatives, constitute our family. If we expand that logic to larger groups—a small town, a tribe, a nation, a major city... the place where we were born is ours.
Everyone else is an outsider.
However, modern transportation, instant communication, and the specialization of labor mean that human mobility is incomparably higher than it ever was in the past.
It was easy to view your family, your village, or your nation as "yours" while viewing others as "foreigners" when you never moved an inch from your hometown. You never even had the chance to see how a Chinese person or an Australian lives.
For the modern individual, identifying their true community is a struggle, especially if they find themselves at odds with the majority views of their own nation.
Take, for instance, those who fled their homes during a conflict. They were driven out of their homeland by other members of their own kind. To whom do they truly belong? Should they identify with the Germans who took them in, provided them with shelter, food, and clothing, or with the Syrians who sought to kill them? And yet, they often share far more core values with the Syrians trying to kill them than they do with the Germans who welcomed them.
Sam Martinez9 said:It isn't the sense of belonging that’s being threatened; rather, it’s our ability to choose which community we actually belong to.
Belonging is a profound feeling—an incredibly intense one. If I were to rank it, I’d place it right up there with the primal fear of death. At least, that’s my take on it.
I’ve mentioned before that it's difficult to distinguish between what is innate and what we absorb from our social environment, but if certain emotions are indeed passed down genetically, then a sense of communal belonging might very well be one of them.
To put it simply: everyone wants to belong to *their* community.
The real complication arises when we try to define exactly what constitutes "*our*" community.
With family, there is rarely any ambiguity—the people we are born to, our blood relatives, constitute our family. If we expand that logic to larger groups—a small town, a tribe, a nation, a major city... the place where we were born is ours.
Everyone else is an outsider.
However, modern transportation, instant communication, and the specialization of labor mean that human mobility is incomparably higher than it ever was in the past.
It was easy to view your family, your village, or your nation as "yours" while viewing others as "foreigners" when you never moved an inch from your hometown. You never even had the chance to see how a Chinese person or an Australian lives.
For the modern individual, identifying their true community is a struggle, especially if they find themselves at odds with the majority views of their own nation.
Take, for instance, those who fled their homes during a conflict. They were driven out of their homeland by other members of their own kind. To whom do they truly belong? Should they identify with the Germans who took them in, provided them with shelter, food, and clothing, or with the Syrians who sought to kill them? And yet, they often share far more core values with the Syrians trying to kill them than they do with the Germans who welcomed them.
| Sam Martinez9 Asks: Take the people fleeing war zones—say, refugees from Syria who had to run just to survive. They were essentially driven out by their own countrymen. It makes you wonder where their true sense of community lies. Who should they really belong to? Is it the Germans who opened their doors, provided shelter, and made sure they were fed and clothed? Or is it the Syrians who were actively trying to kill them? The strange thing is, even though they’ve found safety elsewhere, many of them still find themselves sharing way more common ground with those people back home than with the Americans who took them in. |