Stop over-thinking!

Why is it so hard for some people to have a clear thought without it forking out towards undesired territories?

I’m used to meticulously thinking things through because of OCD, and this has been the way since I was a kid; I ruminate a lot as per the compulsion. Unfortunately, this means that I struggle a lot to just have a straight-up thought that doesn’t lead to something depressing, distressing, and/or aggravating.

“Stop worrying so much” – if only it were that simple.

Association. We might think of red and then be led to danger or passion. I think most of our thoughts work like this, as our brains are often assessing and problem-solving, but some of us, like me, can’t help but to get carried away. I give things meaning that I shouldn’t, and pursue thoughts best left well alone.

Think of OCD-style over-thinking like the Internet: there are links littered everywhere, but most people simply click those that apply to them at that given moment. Myself, however, I like to click every link I come across, being led to all sorts of bleak places until my browser history makes even the most morbidly curious person blush.

Genital enlargement? Sure, I’ll click that. Disturbing videos? Right on, bring it. Articles about death, disease, and misery? Yes please! Strange analgoy, but welcome to my brain; it’s volatile.

One such example, is when I’ve been in relationships in which I would have an obsession with the question of whether I really loved her. This lead to my ruminating over the question, ultimately leading to the what if, which in this case, is what if I didn’t?

There are a great many what ifs I’ve asked myself over the years.

What if I’m [thing]?
What if I did [thing]?
What if I didn’t do [thing]?
What if I were capable of doing [thing]?
What if they [thing]?

It’s a muddled bundle of gibberish I know I shouldn’t entertain, but they’re at the forefront of my mind and it takes so much energy to get them to fuck right off. There’s the thing: you shouldn’t fight these thoughts. I’m told I should accept them and move on, and I know that makes sense—giving the thoughts so much attention serves to perpetuate the obsession—but it’s something that takes a lot of work.

Although over-thinking can be a perfectly normal-person thing to experience, it’s something people with certain forms of OCD might experience very, very frequently. Intrusive thoughts come to mind—excuse the pun.

It’s frustrating, though. When you’re close to someone, then you’re suddenly hit with a thought, however ridiculous or unlikely, it stresses you out. What if you’re so close to the person that you’re used to being honest and open, then they query you; do you tell them what you’re thinking when they enquire as to why you’re so anxious or distracted?

What if your thoughts could be a catalyst for your partner’s insecurities? Is your purposefully holding back information from him or her an immoral, deceptive act? Are you lying to them? Maybe you’re lying to yourself.

So many questions and no answers, so you ponder some more; still left fumbling in the dark without a nice bright solution.

Thank you Mental Health and Invisible Illness Resources for sharing this.

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Mind the Supported Housing #5

I’ve just had a health and safety (H&S) check.

Firstly, at least here, two support workers need to be present for a H&S check, although I’m not sure why. Initially, I thought it was because of their own safety, but now I’m not sure as I’ve had many support sessions over here with just my support worker alone.

The requirement of two support workers means that there’s a chance H&S checks will be postponed until two workers are free for the check. Although nothing major, it’s worth noting that this can result in us been given the run-around, which can be incredibly frustrating.

A day or two prior to the H&S check, each tenant receives a letter through the post informing them of the upcoming check. Sometimes the letter comes with a small list of things for which they will be looking, such as hoovered floors, cleaned appliances, and emptied bins.

All rooms are checked, but it’s a very quick look, especially where the bedrooms are concerned. I used to worry that the workers would rifle through my stuff, but nope, not so.

The electric and gas meters are noted down, no doubt to ensure we’re not doing something elaborate which costs them a fortune. They may ask us to get the meter values ourselves, ready to hand to them when they come for the check.

The workers do have spare keys to access your property and the bedrooms, but they claim that they prefer the tenant(s) to be present to let them in and answer any questions, such as if everything is working as it should.

It is a scary idea that someone has keys to your private belongings other than yourself, but it is typically for emergencies. Although it’s common that a landlord will have a spare set of keys for emergencies and I presume legal reasons, it can be a scary concept for someone with mental health problems.

The checks usually take place between midday and five o’clock in the afternoon. The times at which they will perform the check seem to be only on their terms, which can be quite an issue with those who struggle with sleep, as I do.

The support workers I’ve been involved with have been, for the most part, friendly, understanding, and patient, as I believe they should be, especially when dealing with people who can be potentially very unwell.

The check is meant to take place every month, but I have known them to be skipped or greatly postponed, but that has only happened at the place I’m at now.

As far as I know, the office, and the houses or flats under which it supports and maintains, is for those who’re more independent and generally doing well, so perhaps that has something to do with their apparent lack of concern in contrast to the previous place.

All in all, the H&S checks are not too invasive, and they, at least for me, have been taken respectfully and to ensure that we and the household are OK. Obviously maintaining a household is an important part of independent living, so it’s good that they ensure we are on top of that, and if we’re not, they would offer us help.

Part 6 can be found via this link!

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I Want to be a Better Man

Something happened tonight that knocked me back. Rather than shut down and hide away from how I feel, I thought I’d jump on here and try to put the feelings into words.

It’s typical that a man should be shallow and closed off, but what happens when you have a man who can be emotional and even sensitive? That’s me, and it’s a problem.

Men aren’t supposed to be emotional. Men are supposed to lock that shit down. Nobody wants to see a man have leaky eyeballs. A man is weak if he becomes emotional and sensitive; lesser. So society teaches us.

I want to stop bricking up and locking down when someone gets too close. I don’t want to bolt for the door when things get too tough. I’m sick of being self-destructive. I need to be better, for myself and for her.

I’m the sort of person who struggles to say how he feels about certain things with a woman, and sometimes with friends and family, such as when I’m upset or annoyed. I’m so preoccuped with being a good person and doing the right thing, that I just stop being a damn person.

A person will make mistakes. How many times have we screwed up to get to where we are now? We’re all screw-ups, but we learn because we talk about it. To this day there are people studying many years into the past to learn from our mistakes. If I hide from everything, I will learn nothing.

I’ve been connecting with a woman on a level I’ve not quite had before. It’s a very communicative thing that I’m finding both comforting and challenging.

On one hand, I feel good knowing that I can say some pretty messed-up crap and she’ll probably understand, but on the other, I’m vulnerable and that freaks me out.

I’m not just vulnerable to her, but my belly is open to being a giant fuck-up; that’s the worst. Sure, I’ve been open with a woman before, and yes, I’ve let down my guard with a woman before, but this feels different.

I’ve spent most of my life, until a couple of years ago, thinking I were some sort of nasty horror that hides in your basement. I’m just a man—I’m no demon, but I’m no angel either, and I think I have to learn to accept that.

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Much love, brah!

Sorry for the huge gap in time since the last post—I’ve been very distracted.

This will apply to various gender setups, but in my case, it’s a male (that would be me) who considers another bloke like a brother!

I met my best friend a bazillion years ago; I was a different person back then, hell, we both were! We’ve changed a fair bit; grew up a lot, but you know what? We’re still brahs. I’ll call him Silly, for a couple of reasons, one of which is because he’s really silly.

I met Silly online, but it was actually local, at his then-girlfriend’s house, and it was only a fairly brief chat, but it was a real clicker! It wasn’t long before he came to my town to stay a while with his girlfriend, who just so happened to be a friend of mine.

I remember feeling embarrassed and awkward when I went over to visit Wotsit, my friend at the time. Why? Because I saw Silly at her window, and I didn’t want to interrupt them. I had also never met Silly, so I was anxious about that as well.

There’s so much I could say about Silly, but I’ll keep it brief so as to avoid this sounding like a speech at a funeral.

Silly is quiet, and I guess he’s quite a shy person. He isn’t the most vocal of people; he won’t tell you all his thoughts and feelings, because sometimes he just struggles to find the words. He’s so quiet, in-fact, that I don’t think I’ve ever heard him shout. Silly’s raised voice is a bit like a regular person’s normal voice.

One thing I really envy about Silly, something I’ve always envied, is his ability to be so blasé. He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t care too much about daft things like risk and danger. I love that dude, but there’s no way I’d trust him with something truly dangerous, like a grenade. Funnily enough, he’d say the opposite about me: that I worry too much, but then that is often true.

I’ve learned something from our friendship. I’m a stubborn sort of person who struggles to let go of certain things, but when it comes to Silly, my brah, I let it be, because chances are, any misunderstanding is due to either one of us being silly, thus ultimately meaning very little in the long run. Have we bickered? Absolutely. We drive each other crazy from time to time, as siblings typically do.

Times are different now, though. Priorities have changed and we’re not living in the same way we used to. We’ve both got other things to be focusing on, and that will only be more of a thing as time moves on. I do worry we’ll lose contact some day, as I have since the early days.

I’m very grateful to have had Silly in my life all this time, through the thick and thin, and I hope he sticks around for plenty more years.

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Console or Stick with the PC?

Note: some of the following is based on my opinion.

Oh PC, how I love you so, even if you are sometimes a pain in the arse. With the release of Bethesda’s Fallout 4 and the new, updated consoles from Sony and Microsoft, I’m prompted to make a change, but I’m having a hard time deciding!

I’m currently using a PC I built myself, with Windows 8.1 operating system, an ASUS 760 OC graphics card, 8GB RAM, an i5 4690K processor on an ASUS Z97-K motherboard, various HDDs and a SATA III SSD, all housed in a Zalmon Z11 and powered by a Corsair 750TXV2.

I have an XBOX 360 still at my dad’s house, which I will eventually get back, but whether I’ll keep it or sell it is another matter, one that potentially depends on my purchase. I like that now-dated console; it plays some fantastic games, but the graphics don’t always hold up so well to today’s standards.

As mentioned, there’s Fallout 4, and although I’m bitter about the state of it, I still want it, because I love Fallout and RPGs in general. Another thing that’s important to me is that my best friend is on the XBOX One as well, and I know he wants me to get it.

The i5 4690K is a solid processor that likely won’t get old for quite some time, but my ASUS 760 OC is showing its age now with some newer games like Fallout 4. Although I don’t game on anything higher than 1080p (ASUS MX239H) so it’s not like I have some great need for something as absurd as a Titan X best left for high-end 4K gaming, although I admittedly stared at its Amazon page for a while. £829 for a graphics card? No thank you.

I am the sort of gamer who cares about fps, but I also about graphics. I’m not huge on graphics, but fps is a big thing for me; it nips at my OCD when I see invariable fps and anything at or lower than 30. I’m trying to get my head around 30fps because of the potential purchase of the XBOX One or PS4, but it stills gets to me.

As of right now, the XBOX One, on Amazon, is £276.99 without any games and with a 500GB HDD, which is plenty enough for me, I think. I consider it a very good price for such a new console. The price of a decent PC upgrade (probably an ASUS 970 OC) is £267.76. Sony’s Playstation 4 comes in at £261.99 with a 500GB HDD and also no games. The prices are all around the same area.

The current downside with buying the consoles at a good price, is that I would have to buy either one of them online (Amazon) which means if something goes wrong, I have the hassle of posting them back and trusting it all works out—I’d much rather dealing with expensive returns in the shops.

I can’t help but to think a version of the GTX 970 by nVidia would quickly become outdated, whereas the consoles would continue to, not necessarily be improved, but the games would be better-designed to take advantage of its hardware. At approximately £400, the 980 models don’t appeal to me a great deal. I like PhysX whe I can use it, and I’d feel disabled by the AMD cards as many good games seem to favor nVidia.

Fallout 4 has some nasty freezes (as seen here) on the XBOX One, particularly when traveling between certain locations, but these freezes are either non-existent or barely noticeable on the Playstation 4. Microsoft’s new console also has some nasty fps drops that can reach the low 20s. The PC version of Fallout 4, however, is definitely not without issues, such as crashes and similar fps drops.

The bonus of the PC, where Fallout 4 is concerned, is obviously the better performance and ability to raise the graphical settings. I’m not entirely sure what I can expect from an ASUS 760 OC on Fallout 4; I’m happy to sacrifice some settings to keep the 60fps going as often as possible.

If you’re wondering why I don’t just OC the heck out of my current hardware: I generally don’t OC my graphics cards or CPUs anymore as I don’t feel the need and I don’t want the extra heat.

The PC Master Race is probably squirming as I type these words because the very idea of going from PC to console is scrub-like behaviour, as the almighty kids would probably say. There are good points to each side of the fence, though.

As an adult with big-boy problems, I also have to consider the boring things I have to spend my money on, such as food and bills. I’m going to be moving soon which will likely suck a lot of money up.

As much as I’d like to dip into my savings and build something that would give any gamer bloke a woody, there are more important things to consider. If I get a console, it may last a lot longer than if I followed the graphics card lineup of the next few years, and that matters.

This decision is driving me crazy! What would you do?

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Mind the Supported Housing #4

I had hoped to get part 4 done sooner, but I ended up staying over at a friend’s house. I got back a few hours ago and have been chillaxing, but now I’ve got some epic dubstep tunes thumping through my ear-holes, so allow me to bore your brain with my experience drill—too much?

Side note: cats are incredible healers. Dogs too, I should imagine. The aforementioned friend has a gorgeous kitten; he’s often stuck in play mode, swatting your face and chewing on your flesh, but when he’s not? He’s this super-sappy, adorable little beast of insane fluffiness.

I’ll get back on topic.

Something that has started to get to me probably was inevitable: I’m starting to wish I could just be moved on already. Supported housing has been mentally, emotionally, and even physically challenging and draining, but now I feel it’s coming to a close; I can sense the end.

There’s a looming interview of sorts with a woman who’ll decide my fate, at least I think that’s the purpose of the assessment. The woman will ask whether I pay my bills and keep the house tidy—easy.

Do I pay my bills? You bet. Direct debit kicks bum and I’ll continue to direct all my debits right to whomever needs dat cheddar, yo!

I’m so tired.

Keeping the place tidy isn’t too difficult. I’m a fairly house-proud sort of guy, but that doesn’t mean to say I’ve always got a feather duster in one hand and a hand-held vacuum in the other—I’m all about the hoover.

I do the housework once a week, typically on Wednesdays, which is a day my last flatmate got me into; sadly, he’s pretty much moved out, now. I take out and empty the bins, clean the kitchen worktops, clean the toilet, the bath, and so the very ordinary list goes on. I’m going to make for a wonderful housewife some day! I should probably stop making that joke; political correctness ‘n’ all.

It was nice having a friend around, or at least he felt like a friend, but I honestly think he gives less monkeys than I initially suspected, so I’m not quite sure what to think about that—I’m possibly just over-thinking and he’s merely busy dealing with the move; fair assessment?

Seeing how much my last flatmate is struggling to get himself settled in his new place, I’m left wondering how much I’m going to struggle. My dad’s back is far from what it used to be and I have no clue how to fit carpets; that’s just one potential problem.

I’m not sure how much I’m going to end up spending getting everything together and buying the white goods, but all I can say for sure is that I’m so pleased I started obsessively saving some years ago!

I don’t and probably shouldn’t drive, so that’s a problem, but luckily my dad does, so he’ll gladly help me move stuff as he has done twice already. I feel bad, at the age of 29, to be asking my dad to help me move furniture yet again.

Maybe it’s normal to need so much help at a time like this, and perhaps it’s expected of a man in my situation, but I’m trying to be independent! I’d rather not lean on my dad so much; he’s already done so much for me over the years.

Part 5 can be found via this link!

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Mind the Supported Housing #3

I believe I’ve mentioned that a “service user” will typically see their assigned support worker once a week as per their tenancy agreement and in the interest of support. If you’ve missed out on the previous entry, check out this link. With that in mind, I saw my support worker just now, and it was a positive experience, so I thought, since I’ve been quite negative, I’d share a positive experience.

I get anxious when I’m waiting for someone or something, so although she was late, as they sadly often seem to be—busy, I presume—she’s the sort of person to want to get stuff done; to get it out of the way as soon as possible. The down side is that she might miss the small things because she’s too eager to get the show on the road, or perhaps she’s just confident that I’m kosher.

My previous support worker, a friendly but arguably negative woman (a stark contrast to my current, optimistic support worker) was nice to speak to but there were problems, those of which my step mother (a well-experienced carer for the mentally and physically disabled) and father felt were clear, but I suppose it’s possible that my sometimes being “too nice” clouded over my ability to realise that, in some ways, she wasn’t helping me.

I didn’t like how my previous support worker handled the situation with my previous flatmate and I; she thought it a good idea to keep sitting us down in the same room like a pair of school kids who had an argument on the playground, but was oblivious (or at least acted so) to the guy’s rather blatant deception, and left me feeling stressed, particularly when we went behind closed doors. I do understand her logic behind  some of her actions, but I ultimately disagree. Sadly, I don’t believe I have a better way in mind, and I’m sure there are times when it does work.

Unfortunately, life isn’t perfect and sometimes there’s just no ultimate solution. There are only so many houses. There are many who are and were far worse off than I, who needed housing very quickly, which I suppose is why it took so long to get me this place.

Yesterday, I received a letter through the mail about my TV license which explained that this property is no longer licensed and watching “live TV” is now not legal. I immediately called up my support worker and explained the situation.

Although my support worker almost had me paying a 2nd TV license costing me just over £145 every 10 months, and failed to get back to me last night when she said she would, leaving me worried, she still managed to get it sorted; it turns out it was a screw-up on Mind’s end.

I requested a current break down of the service charge and rent. The service charge does in-fact cover the non-communal gas and electric, water, personal cleaning, TV license, and the management of ineligible services.

There are some aspects of the break down with which I’m not familiar, such as the non-communal gas and electric; how exactly does one go about separating communal from non-communal, and how does that make sense when the gas and electric are both communal, yet I’m still paying for it?

I’m not entirely sure to what “personal cleaning” pertains, since I do all of my cleaning, but I have noticed that they insist on mowing the garden lawn (at least at the previous place—no garden here) and they’ll occasionally deal with oversized bushes and various similar, outside things.

Lastly, I haven’t a clue about this “management of ineligible services” thing, and it irks me that I’m being charged for things that weren’t explained to me, unless they were but I was too anxious to absorb the information when I first moved into supported housing.

Since she had no luck tracking down a local support group for OCD or anxiety, I’ve requested my support worker look into and inform me about Mind’s courses that are locally available. There are various courses for things like dealing with anxiety, coping with emotions, and being assertive; the former interests me, since, as you know, I have anxiety problems.

Hopefully the course(s) will help to get me out of the house more and allow me to be more social! As it stands, I don’t have many reasons to go out, and when I do, it’s often met with a fair bit of anxiety.

Part 4 can be found via this link!

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Mind the Supported Housing #2

One of the hardest things about living in this sort of Mind supported housing, at least for me, is living in shared accommodation. If you already have mental health issues that can have a social impact, living in such a place with someone else who also has similar issues may well be a considerable issue!

See my old rant, Living with an Audacious Idiot, if you’re curious as to how frustrating and problematic it can get living with someone with mental health issues. Do note that I’m not saying absolutely everyone with mental health issues is a nightmare to live with!

Living in shared accommodation presents issues whether you have mental health problems or not, I understand that, but when you live with someone potentially unstable, as I have done, it becomes pretty intense, especially if they are driving you so crazy (being rude, disrespectful, argumentative, deceptive, and so on) that you end up losing your temper with them.

Each tenant has a support worker assigned to them, whom they may have to see once a week, which is actually a requirement of the tenancy agreement. Unfortunately, there are plenty of times I haven’t had such a “support session” because a support worker (I’ve now had two assigned to me) hasn’t been available.

I’ve been texted, E-Mailed, and called to tell me that a support worker is stuck in traffic, working elsewhere, or for whatever other reason cannot make it. I’m not sure where this leaves me with regards to the tenancy agreement, but I’ve so far not been booted, so that’s a plus.

Due to the severity of the mental health or other issues (such as drug misuse and alcoholism) that some people in these places may have, the support workers do potentially have a lot on their plate, and there are risks. Thankfully, I’m not one of those people.

The down side of living with someone potentially unstable (the possibly aggressive, abusive sort of people) is that I may have to live with such a person, which can be disconcerting, potentially risky, and counter-productive with regards to the support of one’s mental health and general living.

I’ve heard plenty of scary stories of unstable, unpredictable people who have lived in these places, and attending the interview (mentioned at the beginning of the first post, Mind the Supported Housing) was a considerable and interesting insight.

Due to my experiences and the stories I’ve heard, I’m clear in my opinion that people with socially-challenging kinds of mental health issues should not be packed together in a supportive environment, due to the potential risks involved. If it must happen, I believe there needs to be a new system set in place to ensure nothing malicious or unfair is going on, with regards to the tenants.

As someone with social anxiety and OCD, I struggled to speak up and be clear about the problems I had with my previous flatmate; he was manipulative and frequently tried to intimidate me, but my OCD kept me thinking what if this and what if that, so I couldn’t have a clear thought that, yes, he was in fact being problematic. My uncertainty apparently made it very difficult for the support worker(s) to take the appropriate action.

In the end, despite countless warnings and calm explanations, it actually took me considerably losing my temper with my previous flatmate, the police involved, myself and my parents insisting something be done, and my having to sleep on floors for a month or so before the support workers decided to take action and move me elsewhere; they actually tried to get me to go back and live with the “audacious idiot” after what happened! Had I less control, it could’ve well taken a bleaker turn. Not a good system at all—I was and still am appalled.

Part 3 can be found via this link!

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Mind the Supported Housing #1

I have lived in two different Mind locations that come under “supported housing”, each with their own office and a different team of support workers. I’m currently still living in such a place, waiting to be moved on to a place of my own so I can stand on my own two feet.

I’ve also attended an interview with two potential support workers, both of whom I asked a few questions to see if they would be a good candidate, from the perspective of such a person they’d potentially support.

Simply put, it’s housing in which one lives and receives support; this does not have to mean that someone is there to wipe your bum, buy your shopping, and feed you blended mush through a straw. There are different types of supported housing.

I’m in supported housing for “vulnerable adults” with mental health problems or those who struggle with addiction such as alcoholism or the misuse of drugs. These places help people become independent, potentially help them acquire a place of their own, while supporting them through their issues, but it doesn’t replace the job of someone like a psychologist or psychiatrist. The housing is temporary—up to 2 years, typically, with an absolute maximum of 3 years. Where do I fit in to all this?

I’m in supported housing because I needed help to become independent and to find and move into a place of my own. I am, as much as I hate to admit it, to some extent, a “vulnerable adult.” I never really thought of myself classed in such an ugly, demeaning way, but apparently that’s where I stand, if only partly.

Before going into supported housing, I was stuck, living with my dad and step mother, and we were getting in each other’s way. My problems made things more difficult for all involved. Besides, I was 28, dying to spread my wings, so it was time to move on.

When it comes to living independently, where I struggle the most is with bills. In particular, I have anxiety problems and OCD, both of which get in the way of things like going out, being social, dealing with issues related to bills, making phone calls, and so on. Living here not only directly helps me with that, but it also teaches me how to deal with these things in the future.

Living in supported housing isn’t always as great as it sounds; there are downsides. Do note that there are better and worse places.

Unless you’re lucky or have very specific circumstances that grant you a solo mission, you will typically be shoved into shared accommodation. In my case, I have been put into places with just one other person, but there are other places in which many people can end up packed together.

You and your flatmate(s) each have a bedroom of your own, the doors to which have a lock. You will each pay a set bill that they call a “service charge” which is usually very inexpensive, as I believe this place is primarily aimed at those who don’t or can’t work, such as myself. If you’re lucky enough to live on your own, you have a lot more to pay, unfortunately. Each tenant should help to maintain the property, as per the usual.

The service charge includes the TV license, water, gas, and electric. For me, rent is covered by benefits. I pay less than £20 per week for such things, which is tremendously cheap and lucky. When I do finally get into a place of my own, my bank account is going to have quite a shock!

Part 2 can be found via this link!

A thank you to the Facebook page Mental Health and Invisible Illness Resources for sharing this blog entry.

Many thanks to the Facebook page Anxiety & Panic Disorders for sharing this blog entry.

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Behind the Screen is a Person

To specifically say it’s not OK to get angry at people online, is maybe saying it’s OK to get angry at people offline; if that’s the case, what’s so special about online? Is it that I can’t grab the little fucker’s necks until their head pops off like a cork out of a bottle? No, that can’t be it.

Behind the computer screens are real people with thoughts and feelings, just like you. Some people forget that. That said, it’s probably true, at least to a point, that you shouldn’t get all that wound up over people in general; it’s wasted energy and potentially unhealthy. Unfortunately, I’m only human.

I’ve got too many reasons to be angry, but I’ll keep the violin  and self-loathing out of this. You probably don’t care for sob stories. There’s always someone worse off than you, right?

I’m angry at myself a lot, for things I’ve done, for things I’ve let happen, for my feelings, for my thoughts, and God only knows what else. I am my own worst enemy.

I’m jealous of people like my best friend who can be so blasé that almost nothing bothers, bugs, or at all rubs him the wrong way.

Earlier on, some power-hungry mod on a forum for a game on Steam bans me for flaming, when I was civil, logical, and essentially not flaming, while the other lot were profanely raging at each other; eventually, the mod or “developer” realised their mistake, made no apology, but at least said they’d lift the ban, except they didn’t; annoying.

Some trolls get on my nerves, not necessarily because of the content, but because they are so pathetic that they have nothing better to do than sit around and hurl abuse at people online; it gives them some sort of sick pleasure to see others in pain. I’m supposed to shrug that off, aren’t I? Well, most of the time I do, but it only takes a bad day and one sadistic individual to change that.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no ogre who’ll ragequit from anything the moment something doesn’t go my way—I’m just tired, which usually makes these sort of things worse.

I don’t exactly like being pissed off, but it turns out I’m pretty damn good at it; apparently that makes me weak.

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