Menu
What's new
Troll Kingdom

This is a sample guest message. Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

I exist

whisky

whisky

Boobie inspector
I guess that should be enough right?

My problems may seem petty considering there are thousands, maybe millions of people that have to go to food banks to feed their families.

I just exist on a sine wave of depression, I have good things, a wife, a child, a home, a job.

For seven and a half hours a day I do stuff on a computer, and talk to people 90 percent of whome are not arseholes.

But it's that other ten percent.

My brain, compliments slip away like rain down a gutter, but negativity, that takes root, that gets buried deeper than an Alabama tick.

I shouldn't burden you guys in our place of happiness, this is our haven, and I dare you to say that, but some days I feel like I don't even know who I am.

Am I Rich, am I whiskey, am I mass of insecurity riding on a rollercoaster of video games and alcohol?

I don't know what frightens me more, that I might live to retirement age, or that I might not.

I honestly don't know if I will post this, or Sisko this personal log.

If you are reading this you'll know.

Don't worry if you get this far, I'm not suicidal, I'm just sad.



I don't know why I stay up so late each night, maybe if I can make it till midnight I'll never have to worry about tomorrow.
 
I forget how old you are, but I'm in my early 50s, and I totally relate to Hunter S. Thompson and Earnest Hemingway. Don't worry guys, I'm 99% unlikely to kill myself, but I totally get waking up one day and saying "You know what? This is as good as it gets. I'll never do anything better than what I've accomplished at this point. It's all downhill from here with nothing to look forward to," and get out the shotgun.

Now I will say, if I'm ever diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer or something like that, I won't be killing myself OR dying in bed, 79# and green with jaundice. I will figure out the most epic possible challenge that has virtually no chance of survival. Singlehandedly swimming from California to Hawaii or fighting a grizzly bear/great white shark hybrid or something.

lol. When I lived in Hawaii, there was a place called Electric Beach that was reputedly a good snorkeling spot because the cooling water from a local power plant attracted warmth-seeking marine life. And there was, say, a 15' tall concrete pipe that ended with a big hole, pointing out to sea. Swam down and right up to the edge of the outlet--and then I flipped out into the discharge and let it blow me across the ocean.

It was warm. And very calming. And the second I did it I went "Well, that was stupid. This would be a really stupid way to die."

Luckily the current lost power pretty quickly. And it was much less treacherous than a rip current (and even those aren't that dangerous if you stay calm and know what to do). And I had on the right gear for swimming in the ocean (mask, fins, snorkel) so I swam a few feet to one side and I was out of the current and able to swim back to the beach.
 
whisky said:
I guess that should be enough right?

My problems may seem petty considering there are thousands, maybe millions of people that have to go to food banks to feed their families.

I just exist on a sine wave of depression, I have good things, a wife, a child, a home, a job.

For seven and a half hours a day I do stuff on a computer, and talk to people 90 percent of whome are not arseholes.

But it's that other ten percent.

My brain, compliments slip away like rain down a gutter, but negativity, that takes root, that gets buried deeper than an Alabama tick.

I shouldn't burden you guys in our place of happiness, this is our haven, and I dare you to say that, but some days I feel like I don't even know who I am.

Am I Rich, am I whiskey, am I mass of insecurity riding on a rollercoaster of video games and alcohol?

I don't know what frightens me more, that I might live to retirement age, or that I might not.

I honestly don't know if I will post this, or Sisko this personal log.

If you are reading this you'll know.

Don't worry if you get this far, I'm not suicidal, I'm just sad.



I don't know why I stay up so late each night, maybe if I can make it till midnight I'll never have to worry about tomorrow.
Click to expand...
Dude. You're ok. You make me feel better about my crappy life. You are an inspiration. I'm an almost 50 year old virgin, I've got mold in my kitchen, car shop installed a defective part in my car last week, and I had a mental breakdown at work over a stapler. Hang in there, we've got this.
 
I don't know many people in our age range who don't deal with this stuff on a regular basis. Life is or at least can be a pretty depressing shit show most of the time and the way things have been going for the last decade or two, hell even the past few years has not been particularly helpful. I don't have any answers for any of you because I'm still searching myself, but hang on and hang out with the people (or pets!) you love and trust and ignore the jerks and jackasses as best you can.
 
Being a virgin isn't the worst thing in the world.

You don't need to fuck to make a contribution to the world.

Locktar you are a kind person, you like everything I post, it means more to me than you can know.

In life there are few constants, your parents die, your freinds move away.

The only people I have known for 20 years who are still in my life are you guys.

And I really appreciate it.
 
OK. This is timely and relevant to this thread. There are a million tangents I could go off on but since this is someone else's thread, I'll *try* to stay on topic.

Many years ago I tore my ACL. Ligament in the knee that holds the bones together. Eventually I got it fixed. There are a few ways they can repair it. Each has its pros and cons. My doc decided to take material from a different ligament and use it for the torn one. So now I have 2 (out of 3?) ligaments in that knee that are at, say, 70-80% strength. Had a friend get a hip replaced last year and amazingly, completely cutting out defective bone and replacing it with prosthetic while laying open a good chunk of his ass, he recovered faster than I did for having a couple little cords moved around through a half dozen tiny punctures in my knee.

Anyway, now I have a dog again who likes to hunt groundhogs along the banks of the creek. The steep banks of the creek. There's a burrow right on the shoulder of the bridge so that's how she likes to access the creek. Then we cut across the steeply sloped dirt under the bridge, which is very dry and dusty right now. So yesterday afternoon I slipped on the loose dirt. And because I was wearing a new clean black jeans and a white dress shirt, I desperately didn't want to fall down in the dirt. So I strained to keep from falling. Kept the pants clean, got some dirt on the elbow. And torqued the hell out of my repaired knee.

When you get to our age, you start wondering if something is going to heal or if this is just the New Normal. Since we were early on the walk, I powered through it and walked for close to an hour. Then I got home, rested, iced, compressed, and elevated it, along with popping a couple acetaminophen. I genuinely didn't know if this was strained muscles or if I'd managed to tear one or more ligaments. (Turns out ligaments don't just heal on their own. They need to be surgically repaired, and the rehab sucked at 40something).

This morning I had to walk The Dog again. And again in the afternoon. So I popped some more Tylenol, pulled a neoprene sleeve over the knee, and limped off, dragged by The Dog.

Iced it again after the afternoon walk (and she of course picks the most difficult terrain to navigate). The good news is, between the way the knee feels and looking at the swelling, it is almost certainly (and I'm awful superstitious to say this) strained muscles that will heal if I can give them enough rest.

But that's the thing about getting old: When you're 25 or 30 and you can't open a jar of pickles, you realize it's just a tricky jar and run hot water over the lid, tap it with the handle of a knife, or wrap a rubber band around it and open it. When you're 45 or 50 you start to wonder if this is when you've gotten old enough that you need someone to open your jars for you.

***

Oh! And a good quote. Good enough that I think I'll look it up to get it exact instead of ad-libbing it. Awhile back, I reread the Fleming Bond novels. It's interesting, how different they are from the movies. Bond doesn't have an unlimited expense account. The fanciest "gadget" he has is...I dunno, maybe an aqualung that got sent to him in the diplomatic pouch in "Live & Let Die," and his "license to kill" means he is allowed to kill--but he spends almost more time cleaning up the kill to make it look like an accident, suicide, etc. And killing increasingly takes its toll on him to the point where, in the later novels, he almost dies because he hesitates to kill people on more than one occasion. Anyhow, there's a bit in the short story "For Your Eyes Only" where M is giving Bond his assigment that is very good:
Trouble is, very few people keep tough after about forty. They’ve been knocked about by life—had troubles, tragedies, illnesses. These things soften you up.’ M looked sharply at Bond. ‘How’s your coefficient of toughness, James? You haven’t got to the dangerous age yet.’
Click to expand...
 
When I hit 50 I noticed the warranty kind of just ran out fairly quickly afterward. I have no major health issues yet, but I started getting these weird things like a case of bursitis on my left elbow, various aches and pains, a touch of arthritis maybe. I used to be a weightlifting and running maniac, it was an obsession. Apparently it's true that if you push yourself too hard that way while in your 20s you pay for it later.

Not complaining really, just a little moment of "hey, I used to be young and indestructible once".
 
I get shoulder pain on a night, high blood pressure, high cholesterol and asthma. I can't go on my PS 4 for more than a few hours with my hands hurting, and occasionally when I'm not at work I will have an afternoon nap.
 
Well at least you haven't decided you're actually a woman.

Seriously, that one's got me stumped. I can figure out Hemingway and Hunter S. Thompson. But I can't figure out how a mature adult male one day wakes up and decides they're a chick and want to be called "Loretta." I mean, I accept it is a thing, but I don't understand it. Bruce Jenner. Shep. There's a guy in the fetish world who's kind of a go-to model. If you've seen ads for anything fetish that has a male model, you've probably seen him. A few years ago he decided he was Lucy.

Now, on Internet tests, I test out as fairly androgynous. Back in college I kind of thought I'd have made a better woman than man--I like cooking and cleaning and sewing (OK, no one likes sewing, but I can do it) and decorating and taking care of a house. I like not having to make decisions. I'd have probably made someone a nice wife--if I were a female. But I'm not. So I've tried to be the best male I can be. And I understand that just becoming a woman is not an option. I don't understand how anyone would think it was an option.
 
Different people experience the world in different ways. I don't really get how it feels to identify with a gender at all (not saying I'm NON BINARY or anything, I just don't care.)
 
I don't understand any of it, either. Maybe because I am OLD.

I was thinking about getting old. I hate that I can't work in the yard for very long without feeling like I'm going to die from heatstroke. BUT, I now have a newish hobby, and that is keeping fish. I've had one small aquarium for about 4 years, then my sister moved in with her 75 gallon and when she moved out she left it with me, and then in January I got another small aquarium and planted it (the other two have plant eating critters). Now I'm fucking obsessed and decided those fish aren't enough and I need a pond. It is something to do that is interesting and has a learning curve and the longer you do it the more knowledge you gain, and gaining knowledge makes you feel good about yourself. Basically I am saying all of you should find a hobby that is fulfilling and you won't feel so bad about getting old. Watching your fish swim around is not as depressing as watching the news.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top