I said some of this stuff on twitter, and I'll say it here too:
The death of a friendship is emotionally and psychologically-devastating. It almost makes me glad that I'm incapable of making/maintaining those kinds of bonds with people.
Making real human connections is so terrifying, precisely because of how easy it is to sever them.
I thought I would never get to talk to or see my favourite person again.
I got a chance to reconnect. I'm grateful for that, and I take it seriously to sustain that connection. But until then, I lived in a hell of unknowing. For 12 years, I was stuck in the pit I dug for myself. Because I did some stupid shit in high school and I never forgave myself.
And that's platonic! I don't think I could survive losing something even more important than that! I am emotionally unequipped to deal with the fallout from a failed romantic or sexual relationship.
A lot of people in entertainment are being held accountable for their sins. A lot of them have done more for this world than I have. If they could fall so low, what chance do I have?
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Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Sunday, 12 November 2017
Sunday, 8 October 2017
Conductor Of The Pity Parade
I grew up thinking I could be famous or important. A celebrity. A scientist. A great thinker or provider. A father or husband.
Time went on, and I realized I don't have what it takes. So I decided to aim lower:
Maybe I could be a writer? Or a critic. Maybe I could be a boyfriend on the side. Or maybe that would take priority, and the writing and stuff would be the hobby. At times I wanted to be a comic author, or an artist, or both. I spent years doing those things, and it turns out I wasn't cut out for those either.
I'm 30 now, and I'm not anything really. I barely qualify as an adult. I'm not employed, I'm not in school, I have no friends, no ambitions and no dreams. I'll always be a virgin. I'll never get to have a relationship or start a family. I don't think I have the stamina to hold down a blue-collar job either.
I'll never be somebody.
I thought I was funny. I thought I was smart and helpful and good, and the last 30 years have demonstrated how completely false all of that is.
I don't get to be any of the things I wanted to be. I don't get to be useful. I'm just another nameless cog in a machine that will keep running long after I'm dead.
I have nothing of value to offer the world, and that's why I'm alone. I'm not even interesting enough to have addictions. I'm just another boring, mediocre white guy.
Time went on, and I realized I don't have what it takes. So I decided to aim lower:
Maybe I could be a writer? Or a critic. Maybe I could be a boyfriend on the side. Or maybe that would take priority, and the writing and stuff would be the hobby. At times I wanted to be a comic author, or an artist, or both. I spent years doing those things, and it turns out I wasn't cut out for those either.
I'm 30 now, and I'm not anything really. I barely qualify as an adult. I'm not employed, I'm not in school, I have no friends, no ambitions and no dreams. I'll always be a virgin. I'll never get to have a relationship or start a family. I don't think I have the stamina to hold down a blue-collar job either.
I'll never be somebody.
I thought I was funny. I thought I was smart and helpful and good, and the last 30 years have demonstrated how completely false all of that is.
I don't get to be any of the things I wanted to be. I don't get to be useful. I'm just another nameless cog in a machine that will keep running long after I'm dead.
I have nothing of value to offer the world, and that's why I'm alone. I'm not even interesting enough to have addictions. I'm just another boring, mediocre white guy.
Wednesday, 26 April 2017
April 26, 2017
I am feeling particularly miserable today. Maybe it's the political shit happening. Maybe it's the fact that Spoiler Warning, one of the last LPs I still watched regularly has collapsed. Shamus Young's blog had a reputation for having a more civil, thoughtful comments section. The comments there got so putrid that pretty much everyone abandoned ship.
If the best-case scenario is total self-destruction, maybe Comments Sections shouldn't be a thing.Feel free to discuss in the comments below The only reason I don't disable mine is because nobody reads or comments on my shit anyway, except for the occasional spam bot.
Yesterday I got through all of the vanilla content in Dark Souls 3 without dying. It did not give me any pleasure, any satisfaction, any clarity or closure or any peace. I had no one to share that victory with. I can't even use the "tree falling in the woods and no one is around to hear it" metaphor, because even a squirrel or a bird would notice if I chopped down a tree. Even if it was a big tree, and I tried many times before to chop it down to no avail.
I don't have anyone I can hang out with. I don't have a lot of money at the moment to buy some new game to provide a momentary distraction. Not a whole lot of options vis-a-vis "comfort food". Not much of an appetite lately anyway. I don't like the dreams I've been having, so I don't look forward to going to sleep. I don't have the energy or willpower to do anything that MIGHT bring me some satisfaction.
I have no centre. And thus, no foundation to build a life or personality off of. I could see myself putting in the effort to be better, to be ANYTHING if there was someone who depended on me, someone I wanted to impress. But everyone is married and busy, and they wouldn't want to be with me anyway.
Things feel pretty fucking grim right now.
END OF LINE
~A.H.
If the best-case scenario is total self-destruction, maybe Comments Sections shouldn't be a thing.
Yesterday I got through all of the vanilla content in Dark Souls 3 without dying. It did not give me any pleasure, any satisfaction, any clarity or closure or any peace. I had no one to share that victory with. I can't even use the "tree falling in the woods and no one is around to hear it" metaphor, because even a squirrel or a bird would notice if I chopped down a tree. Even if it was a big tree, and I tried many times before to chop it down to no avail.
I don't have anyone I can hang out with. I don't have a lot of money at the moment to buy some new game to provide a momentary distraction. Not a whole lot of options vis-a-vis "comfort food". Not much of an appetite lately anyway. I don't like the dreams I've been having, so I don't look forward to going to sleep. I don't have the energy or willpower to do anything that MIGHT bring me some satisfaction.
I have no centre. And thus, no foundation to build a life or personality off of. I could see myself putting in the effort to be better, to be ANYTHING if there was someone who depended on me, someone I wanted to impress. But everyone is married and busy, and they wouldn't want to be with me anyway.
Things feel pretty fucking grim right now.
END OF LINE
~A.H.
Tuesday, 7 February 2017
Feb 06, 2017
This morning I woke up full of affection and a need to shower love on... something. Anything, really.
Then I dropped hard. Now I can't sleep because I'm so uncertain about who I am or where I should be or where I can go, or what I should do, or even what I WANT to do.
I never thought I'd have an identity crisis. I don't like it. I REALLY don't like being lost. I hate being without answers and knowing no one can help me, and I can't help me.
----
The Last Guardian plays like a Fumito Ueda game. You do have to fight the controls and the camera quite a bit. But his games aren't meant to be loose, smooth, fast-paced arcadey experiences. I'd say they're much more focused on mood and setting than being "fun". In that sense, it's kind of the opposite of an action game, where the gameplay is the primary focus and the story is an afterthought.
And oh my fucking God, Trico is so precious I can't stand it. I'll bet the years and years it took for this game to be developed were spent just figuring out how animals behave and trying to make that work in a fictional creature's animations. I think I have a stronger stomach for animals in media portrayed in danger, but even when this thing is mildly sad or whatever it hurts my heart. I don't think I could recommend this game to someone who loves animals.
I don't know what happens past the first couple of hours, but I wouldn't be surprised if there's a Tragic Circumstance later. There was a part like that in Shadow of the Colossus, Ueda's previous game... But then again, they did go back on that during the credits, so... *shrug*.
----
I've heard a good way to make money as an artist is to learn how to draw anthropomorphic characters. Apparently furries are rolling in the fat stacks of cash.
I tried doing some sketches, and it didn't feel right to me. I don't know if it's because I'm not good enough at it yet, or if I just don't want the association of being a "furry artist" or whatever.
I admit that is a prejudice on my part. I've known people who despise furries, and I think that's silly, but I do feel some apprehension about drawing this stuff. But if I learn how, I might be able to make some money which I can put towards good causes as well as selfish bullshit. So maybe I should just suck it up and learn to draw?
END OF LINE
~A.H.
Then I dropped hard. Now I can't sleep because I'm so uncertain about who I am or where I should be or where I can go, or what I should do, or even what I WANT to do.
I never thought I'd have an identity crisis. I don't like it. I REALLY don't like being lost. I hate being without answers and knowing no one can help me, and I can't help me.
----
The Last Guardian plays like a Fumito Ueda game. You do have to fight the controls and the camera quite a bit. But his games aren't meant to be loose, smooth, fast-paced arcadey experiences. I'd say they're much more focused on mood and setting than being "fun". In that sense, it's kind of the opposite of an action game, where the gameplay is the primary focus and the story is an afterthought.
And oh my fucking God, Trico is so precious I can't stand it. I'll bet the years and years it took for this game to be developed were spent just figuring out how animals behave and trying to make that work in a fictional creature's animations. I think I have a stronger stomach for animals in media portrayed in danger, but even when this thing is mildly sad or whatever it hurts my heart. I don't think I could recommend this game to someone who loves animals.
I don't know what happens past the first couple of hours, but I wouldn't be surprised if there's a Tragic Circumstance later. There was a part like that in Shadow of the Colossus, Ueda's previous game... But then again, they did go back on that during the credits, so... *shrug*.
----
I've heard a good way to make money as an artist is to learn how to draw anthropomorphic characters. Apparently furries are rolling in the fat stacks of cash.
I tried doing some sketches, and it didn't feel right to me. I don't know if it's because I'm not good enough at it yet, or if I just don't want the association of being a "furry artist" or whatever.
I admit that is a prejudice on my part. I've known people who despise furries, and I think that's silly, but I do feel some apprehension about drawing this stuff. But if I learn how, I might be able to make some money which I can put towards good causes as well as selfish bullshit. So maybe I should just suck it up and learn to draw?
END OF LINE
~A.H.
Tuesday, 18 February 2014
Love Is Not Selfish
How many of you have heard the phrase: “You have to love yourself before you can love anyone else”? The idea is that if you love yourself, it will naturally lead to caring about others, and not caring about yourself denies you the ability to have meaningful relationships.
But wait, what about bankers? What about bible-thumping bigots? What about mass-murderers and dictators? What about lobbyists and corrupt police and senators and congressmen and gangs? What about rapists? What about hollywood executives?
These are not self-loathing people. Psychopaths have high self-esteem. They love everything about themselves and continue to make the world worse because that initial self-love never spread out. Why wouldn’t they? They want everything for themselves because they see themselves as more important and more deserving. Hating yourself is not necessarily always what makes you hate others, so why would loving yourself be the only entryway to loving others?
You do not need to love yourself to love others. That’s bullshit. I hate pretty much everything about myself, and I cared about people. Certain people, at least. I was a humanist for most of my life, and my own self-loathing didn’t stop that. Even years after I should have stopped having any personal investment in the human race. Long after I should have given up on the species, I was still hoping and caring.
If I still care about anyone, it’s not because I had some epiphany or some moment of self-acceptance. It’s because I’m not a psychopath, and love is not selfish!
END OF LINE
~A.H.
But wait, what about bankers? What about bible-thumping bigots? What about mass-murderers and dictators? What about lobbyists and corrupt police and senators and congressmen and gangs? What about rapists? What about hollywood executives?
These are not self-loathing people. Psychopaths have high self-esteem. They love everything about themselves and continue to make the world worse because that initial self-love never spread out. Why wouldn’t they? They want everything for themselves because they see themselves as more important and more deserving. Hating yourself is not necessarily always what makes you hate others, so why would loving yourself be the only entryway to loving others?
You do not need to love yourself to love others. That’s bullshit. I hate pretty much everything about myself, and I cared about people. Certain people, at least. I was a humanist for most of my life, and my own self-loathing didn’t stop that. Even years after I should have stopped having any personal investment in the human race. Long after I should have given up on the species, I was still hoping and caring.
If I still care about anyone, it’s not because I had some epiphany or some moment of self-acceptance. It’s because I’m not a psychopath, and love is not selfish!
END OF LINE
~A.H.
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