this post was submitted on 16 May 2026
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Off My Chest

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cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/46941411

I'm not doing so hot, but not for the reasons everyone keeps telling me to take my meds. It feels exactly like it did when I was fifteen, after the police interrogated me about a nonexistent bomb using hypothetical questions, but before being suspended. This is the same feeling I had throughout college. I know the boat is sinking yet can do nothing but plow forward.

World collapsing, not that there was much going for me before. I suppose I always have God, but that's part of the problem. If our fathers were our models for God, what does that tell us about God? For me, it's that I'm never good enough and I always have to go farther and harder and faster to appease my master.

I remember an invitational early in my junior year of high school track where I just couldn't run fast. My coach wasn't worried as it was the beginning of the season and he was preparing us for those races that mattered. My dad was having none of it. He screamed at me while I was running in the same way he yelled at us in Little League; with borderline fucking death threats. He was "livid" the whole way home, which is a very specific word he used when he would methodically go through my soul and shit in every inch of it.

And this is where I'm falling apart, because my life partner is deliberately evoking these feelings by being like my negligent, narcissistic father, and I can't take it anymore. And the thing that kills me is wondering if him taking some pills is going to magick him back to being the man I fell in love with, and that is fucking with my head. Is he so capable and callous that he is using me for his ends and he can be nice to me in the ways a considerate person might, but just chooses to make me feel this way?

I can't even trust my ability to love. He could be playing with that! Certainly love bombs me enough, but he doesn't know what that is just as he doesn't know anything about "jedi mind tricks" he told me about once. He's intentionally dense and aloof. Maybe? Is that his definite schizoid-type disorder? I can't tell what reality is.

Just keep trusting, just keep giving, and that was what I did in the cult. I let them walk all over me. They used me. And I genuinely think they did it for my benefit. I don't know what's real. The world doesn't even exist as a physical, external object to us. That's easy to understand, how the Earth is an illusion, but the circumstances of my life? Impossible to discern anything from.

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[–] Kolanaki@pawb.social 1 points 9 hours ago (2 children)

Everytime I blink I experience complete and utter lonliness as the entire world pops out of and into existence again.

[–] webghost0101@sopuli.xyz 1 points 7 hours ago

Holy what, how did you obtain such amazing ability

Not even joking “time and reality for everything but my own mind stop existing from the moment my eyes are closed till i try to open them, where it continues where it left off” is my new favourite superpower by a very long shot.

[–] Impractical_Island@lemmy.world 1 points 8 hours ago

The thought of loneliness is not as bad as loneliness itself. Hello. How are you?

[–] Impractical_Island@lemmy.world 0 points 9 hours ago

Master says me saying five lights not good enough. Must jump higher! Demands! Not good enough. Will throw me away if not good enough. Never good enough. Keep getting jumped by him, not physically, but I can't leave my room less he demonstrably try to shit in my soul. He's a technical Buddhist; the Buddha technically didn't say he could do something, so he can do it with all the dials turned to eleven, obviously! And as such, I totally fucking agreed to my life partner destroying all my sensibilities to not know the ground on which I stand. I want to make him an honest man. For that I need a hammer, and as such, God uses that on me, the inferior that He is.

Which is a better story:

A) Trust fund baby goes to Harvard like daddy to do a whole sex crimes and never attend class to get a piece of paper, or

B) The disadvantaged person who fights through endless adversity to come out on top and make their dream come true

God's a dick because I'm a dick, but I'm a di k because my father. I'm a kind person because my mother. She said things I understood. My dad just hurt me when I fucked up and the line of "fucking up" changed every single day.

I remember that world I grew up in after my mom died. It changed. It was cool to sabotage the hotel room for the person after us, y'know, putting sawdust in the air conditioner so it would blow up at them. For the longest time I wanted a woman who would be the person to make it Us vs the world. Well shit. It took until my twenties until I realized that I was the world. What even is wisdom. My dad told me once to not stare at people. The mountain of used tissues by my bed says he genuinely didn't give a shit where my eyes fell.

And it's not his fault. His mother and father even worse as far as being narcissistic and the densest object in the universe go. My childhood after my mom died was SOLELY composed around "he said, she said," gossip of my grandparents talking about their own fucking family as if they were murderers who moved next door. I lived with them during the summers in the years where I had a new mother every year, with endless ice cream and cup o noodles soup that I liked back then. Spoiled I became. Entitled. I worked my ass off to fix that, and it's still not good enough.

Doesn't even acknowledge my progress in all the axises that define my growth and healing. He's a step above masturbating to ESPN in a weekly ritualistic fashion, snd he doesn't do drugs, but he is soulless. Every day, whacks a mouse in the head to feed his snakes. It twitches. This is good to him. Means his snakes will take it, sensing movement. It's disgusting how he shoots squirrels with a pellet gun to feed it to them. Shot through all three sections of our immigrant neighbor's inflatable pool because their child was too loud.

They escaped a warzone and wound up in a worse position being next to my father. And he says I'm 35. Get a job. Do you even acknowledge whst you've done? Truly, I will be the only one who spends time with him in Heaven, because I choose to be better than my father before me and would never throw him away. His day will come. The trumpets will bring his walls down and he will be defenseless against himself. He will see himself objectively, and thus "the last will be first and the first will be last."