Posts by Harold Gray97

Hannah Morris4 said:I’ve been there too, honestly. There really are wonderful souls out there, and in those heavy moments, an email from a stranger can probably mean more than a million hugs from someone standing right next to you who hasn't a clue what you're going through. You just have to give people a chance, I suppose—though obviously, not everyone deserves one, but that’s just how the world works...

Hello, everyone!
Let’s lighten the mood for a moment.
I have a little joke for you.

The police brought three women in for questioning. They ask the first:
"Are you a prostitute?"
"No, I'm a model."
They ask the second:
"Are you a prostitute?"
"No, I'm a model."
They ask the third:
"And you? Are you also a model?"
"No, I'm a prostitute."
"So, is business good?"
"It would be, if it weren't for all these models..."
Now, I find myself pondering what career path I should take. Which one is more lucrative?
Ladies, please, I could use some advice. Hmm, perhaps a modeling career is the way to go after all.😂

I find myself quite struck by the sheer, unadulterated audacity of this entire situation. It is truly remarkable how easily we fall prey to such blatant misinformation when it is presented with even a modicum of confidence. One would think that, given the current climate, we might be a bit more discerning, yet here we are, circling the drain of collective delusion once again. I am almost tempted to applaud the sheer scale of the incompetence on display, though I suppose that would require a level of optimism I simply do not possess. kaže:
For instance, there was a period where I found myself utterly incapable of discussing certain matters in my daily life; even the mere thought of bringing them up felt like a direct precursor to a total nervous breakdown. My complexes, my traumas, those deep-seated fears—they were simply too heavy to carry into conversation. Yet, I have discovered that once you begin to write about these things here, almost as if you are living through them on the page, there is a profound sense of dissection and release. It is as though by documenting the experience, one finally begins to let go.
The written word will always possess a certain tranquility that the spoken word so often lacks.

🙂 Jeremy Roberts5 🙂
Look closely; you already have three female colleagues reaching out to you, expressing a sincere desire to share in your burdens, your pain, and your inner unrest.
While we are more than happy to offer our counsel, we truly desire for you to engage in a genuine dialogue with us—to open up and share your own tribulations so that we might lend our support.🤷
And then there is my colleague rapidbear65; he truly is an exceptional individual. While he may not always be able to check in immediately, I know with absolute certainty that whenever his schedule permits, he will reach out to offer his perspective and some much-needed advice.
We truly wish to see you overcome these obstacles, but you must meet us halfway and offer your cooperation.
The only thing that truly matters is that you place your trust in us, and more importantly, that you come to realize you aren't facing this alone.
There may be instances where we inadvertently stumble or commit an error while communicating with you; however, I implore you not to hold such lapses against us, for to err is fundamentally human. Rather, simply point out our inaccuracies, and we shall endeavor to rectify them immediately. Please, do tell us about your passions—what truly moves you? Do you find solace in music or perhaps the written word? What sort of cinema captures your interest? Pray, share everything with us, and I assure you, we shall reciprocate in kind.
I have always possessed a profound appreciation for a well-timed joke, so if you find it agreeable, I shall occasionally endeavor to share a bit of humor here.
Rest assured, my friend, you are certainly not alone in this endeavor.🙂

Jeremy Roberts5 said:Does anyone else feel like they’re constantly trying to run away from themselves? That’s how it feels to me—like I'm trying to escape my own skin, but there's nowhere to go. I’ve been struggling with depression, and honestly, I don't even know what else is pulling me under anymore. I don't really know what to do next. At the suggestion of a friend, I went to see a psychiatrist, but I’ve already cycled through two different doctors. Both were completely disinterested in actually listening to me, let alone helping. Now I'm supposed to find a third one, but I'm dreading it because I'll probably just run into the same type of person again. This all started when I was just a kid. When I was ten, I watched my best friend die right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything to save him. Everyone blamed me for his death, even though I tried everything I could. It’s haunted me ever since. I don't know how to deal with it. I find myself constantly wondering if I’m actually a killer, and trying to wrap my head around what a killer even feels like. I often have this overwhelming urge to tell someone how sorry I am, but there's no one left to tell. I keep thinking I could have saved him if I hadn't been thinking the way I was at that moment... I remember who I was before all of this, and comparing that person to who I am now is impossible. It feels like I've spent my whole life running from myself because I can't live with the person I've become. I've isolated myself from everyone. I rarely leave the house because I'm terrified of my own shadow—scared of what might happen if I'm actually "that guy," or if something similar happens again. I know I won't be able to handle it. I can't keep living like this. Like anyone else, I crave companionship and love, but I have neither. All of this eventually led to a suicide attempt, and now I'm just stuck in this limbo. Part of me feels like I need to be punished, especially since everyone thinks I'm the reason he died. My thoughts spiral into these extremes where I feel an impulse to do something reckless just to end up in prison, because the guilt and remorse I carry are more painful than any physical injury I've ever experienced. Just so people don't think I'm some old man—I'm only 23. It’s been 13 years since that tragedy, but it feels like it happened just yesterday.

I have revisited your post, and I feel compelled to say something to you.
No murderer lives in fear of committing an act; they simply do it.
Anyone who genuinely fears causing harm, or fears taking a life, will never actually follow through, because that very fear—and the panic and intrusive thoughts it triggers—acts as a barrier.
Believe me, I have seen countless instances where people felt this exact same terror, and not a single one of them ever hurt anyone.
Someone suggested that you change your environment.
If it were within your power, that would be a beneficial step.
You need to reintegrate with society. I didn't ask about your specific surroundings—whether you live in a small town or a major city—but tell me, do you have even one friend to lean on?
Please, keep talking to us.🙂

rapidbear65 said:Hey Tea! "I'm in the wrong with you." I'll hit you up soon. It's impossible to help someone who asks for help but won't take it. Honestly, it takes a lot of work and time. Take care!

Where have you been hiding, my friend? Please, do not go blaming yourself; I know you’ve just been caught up in the chaos of life. As long as you are healthy and doing well, that is all that matters to me. You are in my thoughts, though I certainly don't wish to be a distraction. We shall speak soon.
Good luck.🙂🙂

Jeremy Roberts5 said:His family blames me, and my own family doesn't believe me (based on what they've told me)... as for the bigger issues where it all starts and ends... I feel like I have nobody, and I haven't achieved anything in my life, nor does it feel like I ever will. What am I supposed to do if I don't know which direction to take and I can't afford anything (classes, training, etc.)? My sleep is terrible; I wake up feeling broken, with aches in my neck, arms, and shoulders—everything except my legs hurts. I hate my family, but I'm forced to live with them because I have no way to leave. To them, I'm never really myself; I'm just the one who's always stupid, clumsy, or whatever, and that's never going to change. No matter where I go outside, I feel like an alien, like I don't belong anywhere. I don't know what to do or where to go. My heart races whenever I'm out—usually, I just go from point A to point B because I need a specific destination so I don't wander aimlessly. Sometimes I'll go for a walk in the woods nearby, mostly in the evening, just so no one sees me crying. I spend so much time arguing with myself, trapped in my own head and my own feelings.

How on earth am I supposed to help you?
I persistently share this link with everyone because I know it has genuinely helped people who took the time to use it, but it feels as though no one listens to me, almost as if there is a collective refusal to accept help. It makes me feel as though I am shouting into a void, and frankly, it weighs on me because I feel powerless to assist you.
I will send you the link, but I implore you to read it thoroughly and grasp the core essence of its components. Look, this resource is for your benefit, not mine. Please, do not be foolish enough to dismiss something that could actually change things for you right at the starting line.
http://www.organon2001.gr/portal/ind...226&Itemid=373
Read through this link carefully, and please, ask me anything that piques your interest. You are more than welcome to reach out via private message as well.
I am well aware that finding employment in today's economy is incredibly difficult. You aren't the only one sending out resumes into the ether only to hear nothing back. However, you must maintain your patience. Surely, better days lie ahead.
The way you withdraw from people is deeply tied to something that happened during your childhood.
There is absolutely no reason for you to run from them. You bear no guilt for what happened. Why weren't they the ones protecting and saving you? I realize my question might seem blunt, but should they be allowed to destroy you as well?
Everything I have told you is the truth. You are not at fault. You must find it within yourself to believe in your own innocence.
And please, cry whenever you feel the need. It is a necessary way to release that negative energy.
Speak your mind; say everything that weighs on your heart.
If you would like, I can give you my email address; write to me whenever you wish and about whatever is on your mind, and I promise I will respond.🙂

Jeremy Roberts5 said:What happened was he started drowning, and I jumped in after him to help, but I clearly wasn't enough. He drowned, and I almost went down with him... they actually had to pull me out.

So, where exactly is your fault in this? Do you honestly believe you are somehow guilty simply because you were the one who survived?
And who is it that is casting blame upon you for his passing?🙂It truly infuriates me.
The truth is, you might not have been able to save him even if you were twenty years old, let alone ten.☕
I spent years training as a swimmer and even served as a coach for a time.
I am an exceptionally strong swimmer; I even swam for the national team. On several occasions, I have attempted to rescue people, and I can tell you firsthand how incredibly difficult it is to fight against both the current and the person you are trying to save. There was one instance where I actually had to strike a young man in the head—quite forcefully, I might add—just to gain enough leverage to reach him. He was lifeless when I finally pulled him out, leaving me wondering whether I had killed him or merely knocked him unconscious. In the end, he was just unconscious.
What is wrong with you? Water is a marvel, a wonder. I adore it, but I never, ever dive into unknown waters. I make it a point to survey the area first; only then do I allow myself to become "friends" with it.
I would never jump into a river, because moving water can sweep you into something dangerous in a matter of minutes.
Please, stop blaming yourself. I say this with full authority because I know exactly what it means to attempt a rescue and understand the sheer physical and mental strength required for such a feat. In those moments, you aren't just fighting the resistance of the water and the struggle of the victim; you are carrying the crushing weight of their life on your shoulders.
At ten years old, you can barely save yourself. You are not at fault, believe me. Even I would have struggled immensely with a ten-year-old. Please, take my words to heart.☕
You mentioned that you are dealing with other issues as well. Please, talk about them.
Be happy.🙂

Jeremy Roberts5 said:I've heard "forgive yourself" plenty of times, but what does that actually mean? I can say the words, but it doesn't feel like it means anything to me...

Allow me to attempt an explanation.
To forgive yourself means to accept the reality of what transpired or what you did.
Consider this: once you shatter a glass, it remains broken; there is nothing you can do to revert it to its former state. Your only recourse is to purchase a new one.
Mistakes function in much the same way. Once they occur, they are finalized; no amount of regret will erase them as if they never existed. However, we can choose to acknowledge them as part of our truth and strive to dwell on them less, until, eventually, the thoughts cease altogether.
The sentiment I expressed is a fundamental truth: "what could not be, simply could not be."
In that specific instant when you made a mistake—assuming that is indeed what happened—it was bound to happen exactly as it did, and no other outcome was possible.
I am unsure how much you believe in destiny, but I am firmly convinced that nothing happens by mere coincidence; everything we experience serves a purpose.
We see it all the time: people flee war-torn nations seeking refuge in a free country like the United States, only to perish in a car accident shortly after arriving.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it wasn't your choice, but rather determined by the moment of your birth, the circumstances of your arrival here, and the path laid out for you.
Look at the world around us. There are individuals who have committed unspeakable evils yet never faced consequences, living comfortable lives entirely devoid of conscience. Conversely, there are those who spent their lives performing acts of pure good, helping everyone in sight, only to die prematurely in the prime of their lives. Who is to blame?
That, precisely, is what it means to forgive oneself. Honestly, I could spend days writing about this topic.
Please, continue to write; believe me, it will bring you a great deal of relief.☕
I don't know the specifics of what you did, but you were only ten years old.
Beyond that, it seems to me that your life has been a true living hell.🙂

Jeremy Roberts5 said:It wasn't just "that." I've dealt with so much other crap and nonsense from my own family and from peers throughout school—middle school, high school, all of it. The reason the guilt eats at me is because, in a way, my life hasn't really felt real since then. He was my only real friend, and ever since he passed, I've been completely alone. I loved him more than a brother. My life basically stopped there, and nobody seemed to care. I messed everything up; I didn't go to a good college or anything useful, just finished a mediocre high school, so now I'm stuck. I just didn't have any drive left for anything. I hated school and everything about it.

If you were to place thirty people in the exact same critical crisis, not one of those thirty would react in the same way. There will be a distinction in at least one detail.
You have to understand something: none of us are infallible. Every single one of us has made a catastrophic error at least once, and someone suffered because of it. Whether that suffering is great or small is merely a matter of the specific circumstances we found ourselves in at that moment.
Quite often, in moments of extreme stress, our reactions are the polar opposite of how we would behave under normal conditions. This weighs on us for years, and we never truly forget, yet we must find a way to forgive ourselves. We have to realize that these are extraordinary moments where reason is often obscured, as if shrouded by a thick curtain of smoke.
I can think of countless examples, but I will offer you a few.
There was a man who lost his father. Everyone gathered to handle the heavy lifting and the necessary arrangements. While the rest of the family wept, he simply sat there, applying cream to his shoes and polishing them for a long, long time. Several people tried to tell him to stop, but he wouldn't listen. Later, he could never forgive himself for acting that way.
Or consider a man whose child was choking on a piece of candy; in a moment of pure panic, he thrust the child into his wife's arms because he simply didn't know what to do. Fortunately, she remained composed, reacted brilliantly, and saved the child. Even today, he breaks down in tears when he recounts it.
Then there was a woman who should have helped a child hit by a car, but she was paralyzed by the fear of getting blood on her vehicle. In truth, she wasn't even conscious of her actions, and the child was already gone. Had she actually driven toward them, she likely would have realized the horror halfway there, potentially leading to a much greater tragedy for everyone involved. She was haunted by it for years.
Those are the so-called smoke curtains that cloud our judgment. We aren't to blame, because in those moments, we are effectively absent.
What happened to you is something you will never forget, but you absolutely must forgive yourself.
Forgive yourself, because what couldn't be, simply could not be. Believe me, you are not alone. We all carry a weight of guilt for things that, for whatever reason, were entirely beyond our control.