Posts by Charles Anderson7

I’ll be brief here. I have this specific take based on how I process being told "I love you" versus being told "I adore you." To me, saying "I love you" feels heavy—it carries this built-in expectation, an obligation to reciprocate if possible. It’s a demand. But when someone says they adore you? That feels lighter, more elective. It’s still affection, sure, but it feels chosen. You can choose to adore God, flowers, or even a cactus... but loving someone isn't a choice. We often end up loving all the wrong people without any say in the matter.

briskgull27 said:And who exactly are you to say that? Is that really all that matters?

My mom and his mom are sisters. We don't live under one roof, but in a small town, it feels like we do. My aunt is always over, so we basically experience all this firsthand. I once knew a girl from a nearby town who had episodes and was hospitalized—I think she even attacked her own child—but her brothers practically dragged her to the hospital by force. They probably broke her spirit there, but she’s living and working normally today. Sure, she has her ups and downs, but doesn't everyone? She moved to NYC, though, and things went sideways. As a family, we managed to find a spot at a clinic in Chicago with a specific doctor—I can't recall the name, just one of those guys you see on news segments wearing dark glasses. He works specifically with patients dealing with addiction, but he refuses forced admissions; he only takes voluntary cases. Honestly, I don't think that will ever happen with my relative because I feel like he's just exploiting the situation. He doesn't work, has a place to sleep, picks whatever food he wants, smokes expensive cigarettes, and blackmails the family for money or else he'll start causing scenes in public. He sleeps whenever he wants, acts however he wants... if he feels like going to a concert, he goes. If I could act like that, I would too. But the worst part is how he treats his mother every single day. It breaks her heart. There are days when I’d love to just slap him myself. But fine, he’s sick. So I'm asking: is this behavior actually okay to tolerate??

Anonymous said:Life can shape some people into good ones.

And it can mold others into villains.

Every single one of us eventually hits a crossroads where we have to make a choice...

But before anything else, you actually need a brain capable of thinking things through.

I’d agree with that. You know that study about twins raised in completely different environments? I think what life throws at us—and how we choose to handle it—is what defines us. But then again, if you look back at the start, maybe there are certain predispositions toward bad actions that shape our entire path. Now I’m back to square one... maybe we’re just born good or bad, and it just becomes more obvious as we get older.

Yeah, I think willpower is everything here... It’s not even that he lacks it, he’s just incredibly selfish. People will think I don't love him, but honestly? I’m just furious. When you talk to him, everything sounds logical on his terms, but it's all skewed. In the end, it feels like since his whole story revolves around drugs, he constantly shifts the blame onto others for his condition. Always some dark, depressing excuse. But when he actually needs something—like squeezing money out of someone—he suddenly finds this incredible strength and energy; you'd think the guy had superpowers. Right now, his parents are looking after him, but I truly don't get how he has zero desire to pull himself together. We're talking years here. Who's going to take care of him once his parents are gone?? Does he ever even have a lucid moment where a real conversation is possible? I'll say it again: he refuses any doctors because he claims he's smarter than them. And honestly, he usually is, because he knows exactly what to say to manipulate them into giving him the specific dose or type of meds he wants. He wins every time. No one has authority over him, and nothing is sacred. He's a total wreck... just a complete mess.

I would have gone just to get some closure. I went through something almost identical. He was incredible—the kind of guy who looked at you with pure devotion, practically worshiping the ground you walked on. And I gave him everything in return. Every look, every moment, it was perfect. But then, I started obsessing. He became this figure in my head, woven into every dream and fantasy I had. It got so intense that whenever I’d catch a glimpse of him, I’d actually feel sick to my stomach from the sheer anticipation. Eventually, he reached out to meet up. I turned him down at first, which led to this agonizing period of longing and madness. He kept calling, and I kept spiraling, building him up in my mind until he was larger than life. Finally, I snapped, we met, and you know what? The reality wasn't exactly a fairy tale. It turns out it's not worth chasing something just because it looks better from a distance. It’s a double-edged sword, really. We all have this endless urge to covet the neighbor's lawn, but once you accept that reality, things get a lot easier. Good luck.

Bogic... I've been doing some reading here because I actually have a relative in my ward diagnosed with this specific condition. His mother keeps insisting he was such an incredibly good kid—always quiet, always withdrawn. In my opinion, that was the first red flag; kids are supposed to be a little rowdy, right? Then, during the war, everything just started falling apart. He lost his grip on reality, spiraling from losing touch with people to full-blown paranoid delusions about being watched on TV or hearing God speaking to him in dreams. The issue is he’s brilliant but incredibly lazy, and having all this idle time just feeds his paranoia. He’s become extremely aggressive toward his parents and brother, which is actually what landed him in the hospital last time. To make matters worse, he's a total pill addict. He's popping Aketonon and Apaurin daily, and Normabel by the box; since he weighs nearly 300 pounds, nothing seems to touch him until he completely crashes. He even stops strangers on the street to ask $1.75like he's some sort of
just because he's hungry, then goes out and buys more pills. He abuses whatever medication his doctors prescribe, swallowing anything he can get his hands on. His parents live in a small town and are absolutely devastated by this whole situation. He refuses any medical oversight or checkups—though I don't entirely blame him, because I often feel like our psychologists and psychiatrists in this country act more like butchers than actual doctors, much like the rest of our healthcare system. Is there any hope left? He's 36, and in the 15 years his family has been fighting this, things have only ever gotten worse.