offmychest

The love of my life died when she was 38. Our four children were 15, 13, 11 and 9 at the time. They're currently 22, 24, 26, 28. I did my best that I knew how to do. I know it is not what they deserved. I could never take her place.

I do not think that I can impart, with words, how hard it was keeping her from the things that would harm her most. Aa time goes on, the trauma hits me harder, as I let it in, little by little.

I love my late wife. I love the mother of my children. Keeping her from hurting herself was... Difficult.

The wracking sobs as I called 911, while performing CPR on her. It's been almost 15 years and it's still traumatizing.

Her mother blames me for her death. To be honest. She might be right. I didn't keep her baby safe. I could have tried harder. I could have insisted on her being committed. I could have abrogated her right to self determination. But I didn't. And that's on me.

But I can't tell her mother that. Or her sons or daughter.

Instead. I tell you. Thanks for listening.

cross-posted from: https://lemm.ee/post/42643337

Honestly I find these memes to be in poor taste. Sorry to be a puritan :/

Honestly I find these memes to be in poor taste. Sorry to be a puritan :/

Since the COVID and the war with Ukraine I drink regularly. I manage it somehow, doing hobbies, work, stuff. I don't put my anger off on others, even ones who I hate. I keep it inside, and I drink.

But I find out there's one unnerving thing. I can't feel that I reek of alcohol. And I turn subconsciously suspective of others if they hear the smell. Nearly combatative at times. Everyone knows that I smell like vodka, I start to see it in their words, gestures. I become paranoid. They all know what I don't, and I hate them.

And my partner doesn't help it. They want me to be sober, but they only ask if I've bought booze on the end of the day. Either way if I did or didn't, I feel shame and want to drink myself to not feeling anything anyway. They care about me, but I don't feel like caring about myself. Why they even got to me, of all people, a fucking piece of shit going mental? I feel sorry for them and that many things that they do, I don't deserve them at all.

I'm sitting on the attic with a bottle of vodka, there are four spiders I came across and a hidden hole that some bird picked as her nest. I heard the sounds of nervous moving and I wonder if they got her. I can't access her location, and I wonder if four little spiders can take a bird. The closest date I'd discover her is the next spring. She'd either leave or die there. One of the subjects jumped onto my leg so I shoved it off. I wish this bird best.

I wish myself worst, for I'm useless.

[Edited title and body to change Selfish to Doomer]

These Doomer Nihilists are so sure the world is so completely fucked, that they just nope out of any meaningful action that might mitigate what's coming.

Hell, they might be right. But it takes an incredibly selfish person to assume their idea of the future is absolute, to the point you just go "If I'm doomed, I'll just let it burn with everyone inside."

I've been called naive, idealistic and cliche just because I believe in the Human capacity to adapt and thrive, and our unique ability as Humans to choose what we believe. How a positive mindset will -literally- move us in a positve direction, generally speaking.

And I admit, I am verying degrees of those things... But am I wrong?

Humans became... And we're still becoming, a collective organism as the internet spreads. It's far from perfect, but it keeps us all connected in one way or another. That gives each and every one of us a little push and tug on the whole.

Unless you are truly isolated in your life, and my heart breaks for those who are, your positivity matters. Your negativity matters. These things spread to anyone who interacts with you, whether it's the slightest bit or enough to get someone to see another perspective. It spreads and it matters.

I just feel like... if more people were a little more naive and idealistic, but informed, we might not be so fucked.

Face it like a Human.

TW: Depression, thought of self deletion.

Hi, this happened many years ago.

For context, I was studying law in my city. My mom pushed me very hard to go to law school and become a lawyer, like my father (whom she hates). I started when I was 17yo and at first it was going great. I was having high grades, getting along with classmates and even professors, and overall I was excited.

Then the 2nd year came in. I had way more things to study, my sleep schedule went to hell, I started to get stressed out, and my grades started to suffer. It started with something mediocre, but normal, then with all my stress, the other grades started to also fall.

With every bad grade, I was spiraling down and loosing my confidence. I started to get depressed, I was feeling shame because my professors and classmates had high expectations on me, and I felt like was failing them.

I was so depressed, to the point that I couldn't concentrate in class anymore. I was also falling asleep in class, and because of that my notebooks were an absolute unreadable mess.

I ended up failing 3 classes, with 2 I would have to repeat the year. So yeah, one of my worst fears became true, I had to repeat. But I couldn't accept it, I refused to tell my mom, with whom I was living and was still the same helicopter parent she was my whole life. She always demanded that I showed her my grades, since at first my grades were good there was no problem, but when I stopped showing her, she started to lose her mind. I didn't even tell her that I had lost the year, I was scared of how she would react. She ended up finding out, because she asked a friend of her that was a math teacher in the same university but in another career to tell her my grades, using his access to the university database. When she found out we had one of the worst fights we ever had that made me cry for hours.

I didn't want to go back to the university, I was too ashamed, but she signed me up to repeat the year, with only the 3 classes I failed.

When I started the year some of my classmates were seeing the same failed classes as me. They reassured me that "it just happens" it I had nothing to worry about, but I was just too ashamed of myself.

That year my depression got worse, I was at the point where I didn't know what the professors were saying because I was too busy in my mind thinking how much I wanted to die. "I could just jump from this window and end it, maybe I could just drink Bleach" were daily thoughts.

At some point I stopped trying to study, because I knew I would just fail.

At some point I found an online college that also had a law school. I though, "that would be a nice option to continue studying while dropping out of here, and is way cheaper". I told my mom about this and she went ballistic, she wouldn't let me go to an inferior online college and said that I was a failure, that I will always be a failure because I chose to be one, like my father.

Now, for the title. I was in desperate need of some escapism, and tried to find animes that were just chill and didn't require me to think too much. I found Lucky Star, a simple slice of life anime with tons of contemporary otaku references. I tried not to watch it in one go because it's a middle sized anime. For a while, it made me forget all my problems, just chill and relax, and sometimes laugh. I felt comforting and welcoming. It gave me a warm feeling that I was looking for.

It was like 11 PM one night and finally reached the last chapter of Lucky Star. I still wasn't ready to let it go, but I was expecting to see how it was going to end. Just when it ended, I was enjoying it so much, and then my mom came out of her room. At the time my room was right next to hers. She was enraged, because I was still awake late at night and I had college tomorrow, she said I was a failure and then went and unplugged the router and modem and told me to go to sleep.

I started crying, for a while this series had made me forget my problem, and then comes my mom and ruins it for me. I was watching it from a not so legal anime streaming page, and the only thing I could do was replay the last portion of the episode that was cached in my browser, and keep crying, this time I really didn't want to let it go. I was crying so hard over Lucky Star, and kept crying for at least 2 hours. I was too scared to just get out of my room to plug the modem and router again because my mom could be waiting to keep scolding me.

In the following days, I felt so pathetic, I was in such rock bottom that I was crying while watching Lucky Star.

That year didn't end well. At one time, instead of going to my final exams, I just went to watch Avengers Infinity War, for the second time on theaters. I failed the same 3 classes again.

This time I got a condition called RR, which mean you failed the same year twice, and are banned from the university for I think 3 years until they let you come back.

My mom still couldn't accept that I was going to drop out, and kept berating me for it. Until this day, everytime I have something cool or great in mind, she reminds me that I'm a drop out. Everytime she sees someone around my age succeeding in life, she reminds me that I'm a drop out. She wont let it go until I graduate from something, but I still can't recover, I can't be put in front of a test because I black out, can't concentrate, and perform badly. Everytime I enter a school, university or something like that, I get anxiety, I can't be in a classroom because I feel so much anxiety. I have no plans to get a degree on something.

Thanks for reading my pathetic story. This happened many years ago and I'm in a better place now. I still have my mom in my life but when I move out I plan to limit contact with her.

On Etsy, I was asking questions to some psychic named GypsyyyTarot, and I posted a neutral, slightly negative review after a reading. He or she told me my error in how I read a disclaimer, and told me to go fix my review, so it was completely positive, then said "Sadly I'm not going to be able to do this order for you as now I'm unable to trust this client relationship any longer. You'll be refunded at the end of the day. Thank you and be blessed." in response to an order I made for asking about the disclaimer, which I didn't need.

Some people don't take criticism well.

To stop this from happening again, I might talk to the seller before I leave a bad review and make sure they won't ban me if I need to make a negative review.

I wanted to leave a note about this on Etsy, then realized I could leave it elsewhere, Reddit maybe.

I started dating my Boyfriend in January 2022. He is an amazing guy, nerdy, sweet, loving, cuddly, soft, with a big heart. I love him a lot.

However, his mom was a monster.

I'm not in the mood to write a long detail post about all what I witnessed in the first year of our relationship, but his mom was horrible to him. Trying to isolate him, a verbal and psychological abuser, a perpetual victim, a gaslighter, an extremely codependent person, who is incapable of taking care of herself, but also bites the hand that feeds her, every single time. Not only she was absolutely useless, but also would berate my BF for any or no reason.

She was also a cigarrate addict, she would never stop smoking, sometimes at their home, there would be almost nothing to eat, but she would use her last coins to get at least 2 cigarettes.

After months of trying to convince him to move out and leave her, he finally did, I paid for a truck and movers, and we took all of his things out while she was at her workplace. That was in January of this year. He moved to an unused house owned by his uncle (his dad's brother).

Life in his new place has been mostly peaceful, my boyfriend went NC and only got updates about his mom from the neighbors.

In these last weeks her health has gotten worse, and he got harassment by his mom's family (they live in another state) but he stayed firm, because all the sympathy he had for his mom drained a long while ago.

This week something in her stomach broke, the walls of the stomach broke because she was taking too much medication. She needed an emergency surgery. The harassment from the mom's family got worse, but he was just done with them, and blocked them all.

Today, it was confirmed that she died. We just don't care, it is good that we will never hear about her again, and won't bother us. One of my BF's uncles, who is a very good lawyer, will take care of all the legals, so my BF don't have to do nothing. If there is a funeral, he won't go. We doesn't want anything to do with anything.

My BF can join Jennette in the club of people who are glad their mom died. I'm glad we can have absolute peace.

So funny, she said that my BF wouldn't be able to live without her, but she didn't even last a year living on her own.

I thought that the will to act, the steps taken to face the issue, would somehow support the combat against my addiction.

It does not.

Since I took that appointment at the addiction clinic, since I had my first meeting with a very sweet nurse who was 1000% more receptive and convincing than the former "mental health professionals" I've consulted with, I had hoped confronting my issues & deciding to address them would be a first step into helping myself. A first step into reducing, even if minimally, my daily intake. Or make me at ease with the concept of living without a bottle hidden in my rucksack.

It does not.

I'm more stressed out. I'm in constant panic attacks. I'm physically sick if I don't have access to the stuff. And I'm feeling like I drink twice as much. Which I'm probably doing.

I know it's a process, a life-changing one. I know there'll be a grief period; she told me. She told me I'm the only one able to do it. No magic, no technology. Just me.

Just me and that liquid shit.

It's not like what I am politically matters in any vaguely short term context. I'd unfortunately do much better if I spent more time working on my direct lib finances or other more self directed activities

Too much time mostly just thinking about it, but sometimes readings.