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Teros Level 50&51&52&53: The Hall of Memories

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On 1/22/2019 at 9:37 PM, Tanktimus the Encourager said:

There really aren't any good words of support right now. You were wise to say what you did, that's an important step in your healing process.

What Tank said, plus my condolences. What you need now is time and room to grieve and heal, so try not to be overly harsh with yourself. From what you wrote out, sounds like you're already coming to terms with the situation and moving forward in a positive way.

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This has been a horrible week.


My mom died on Tuesday.  Then because of the stress from all this, my immune system turned to shit and I got the flu.  Then on Friday my uncle tells my sister about how he has been losing tons of muscle mass and is skin and bones and there is something wrong with his stomach: most likely stomach cancer.  My mom knew about this but didn't say anything but with my mom now dead, that secret has now come to light.


I've been doing a lot of cleaning: mostly laundry.  I don't know how many loads of laundry I've done at this point.  30? 50?  I just keep doing laundry and rummaging through stuff. My mom was a hoarder so I've been putting types of things together.  There is a stack of 108 rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom, as well as boxes of kleenex that go from floor to ceiling and then extra.  There's dozens of boxes of plastic gloves.  Cardboard boxes.  Diapers.


I was able to clean out my old room and that's turned into 'the clean clothes room'.  As I cart stuff downstairs, like stinky and feces-covered nightgowns, musty sheets, and blankets with kitty litter and random crap on them; I'll wash it all and then fold it and put it into the Clean Clothes Room.  I moved both bureaus in there and both are now packed full of cleaned and folded clothes.  I've been vacuuming, moving furniture, and making piles of each type of thing.  On Saturday, I was so run down with the flu that I sat in a chair for 5 hours and couldn't get up. I was in a sleep-limbo where I was too tired to move, but I wasn't able to sleep so I held my head in my hands and stayed there.


Right now I'm on the rebound.  The flu is mostly gone.  I'm currently at my Tuesday-night class.  I took a week off of work and talked to my boss and he put me in for bereavement pay.  I went back to work at the market this week.  I'm going to do 1 internship day this week and then next week, I'll try 2 days and then start back at my 2nd job as House Manager.  I'm trying to gradually get back into things but I also can't really delay much because I'm AHEAD of schoolwork and internship hours and I don't want to lose that lead.  This term needs to be over.  This is it: the last 3.5 months until I get my MSW degree.



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Thanks everyone for the kind words.  Today is my first day back at my internship.  Since my mom's death, I've wanted to get everything *over with*.  I want my classes done, my internship done, my homework done, this cleaning done.  I think that's sort of helped me since being motivated means I have less and less anxiety.  For instance:




Field Class: I finished my process recording and I wrote my 3 reflections so as of today, I am DONE with my Field Class homework.


Clinical Class: I had class on Tuesday and I talked to my teacher about what happened.  There are 3 main projects that are due in the class and I decided to start working on that.  I spent a few hours yesterday getting an article read, a presentation written, a powerpoint created, and an ethical dilemma case all finished.  So after I do my powerpoint presentation next week, I will be 1/3 DONE with Clinical Class homework.  I'm debating on working on the Mid-term this weekend.


Case Consultation Class: I am having my first Case Consultation Class this upcoming Monday so I'm going to see what is due for that and plan accordingly.


Those are my three classes left:  Field, Clinical, and Case Consultation.  I'm already way ahead of homework so as long as I set aside a chunk of time each weekend to work on *something*, I'll stay ahead.  My Clinical midterm is due on March 5th.  If  I can get some of that done this weekend and finish it next weekend, I'll be over half done with ALL schoolwork (All Field done, 2/3 of Clinical done, Case not started).  That's super ambitious but it's also do-able.




After today, I will have finished 300 hours at my current internship.  I also need to add my 130 hours at my summer internship, which means I have 430 out of 600 hours done.  That's 170 hours left to finish between now and mid-May.  I'm doing 16x hours a week for about a month and a half and then I'm cutting back to 8x hours a week.  The rest of the school year should look like:


February 3-9 ------------------------- 16 hours (154 left)

February 10-16 --------------------- 16 hours (138 left)

February 17-23 --------------------- 16 hours (122 left)

February 24-March 2 ------------ 16 hours (106 left)

March 3-9 ----------------------------- 16 hours (90 left)

March 10-16 ------------------------- 16 hours (74 left)

March 17-23 ------------------------- 16 hours (58 left)

March 24-30 --------------------------- 8 hours (50 left)

March 31-April 6 --------------------- 8 hours (42 left)

April 7-13 -------------------------------- 8 hours (34 left)

April 14-20 ------------------------------ 8 hours (26 left)

April 21-27 ------------------------------ 8 hours (18 left)

April 28-May 4 ------------------------ 8 hours (10 left)

May 5-11 -------------------------------- 8 hours (2 left....eh whatever. Done)




I signed up to the gym on Jan 1st because there was no start-up fee.  My plan was to sign up and wait until February to start going - figuring that all the New Year's Resolution people will quit after a month.  Well February is tomorrow so my plan is to go to work for a couple hours and then go to the gym and then I have therapy.


I've been looking more into keto and I'm thinking I want to transition from whole30 into keto but I'm not sure.  If some blueberries are enough to 'kick' me out of ketosis then that doesn't seem sustainable.  I might sort of yo-yo between keto and whole 30.  What I *do* know is that low carb makes me feel better and is what helped me lose 120 pounds.  I honestly think that I have celiac disease like my sister.  I might be lactose-intolerant as well but I would need to test that.  It also seems really easy to start and stop ketosis so the more I look at this, the more I think I might have already been ping-ponging that way.  I mean, if my diet for a couple of days was protein, olive oil, and vegetables but only 1 piece of fruit, I may have slipped into keto for a day or 2, lost some weight, then had a sweet potato and more fruit and been 'kicked out' again, you know?  I think I might need to SUPER monitor what I eat for 2 weeks.  Although I utterly loathe the idea of a food journal and counting stuff, I might have to....for science.  Tomorrow morning, I'll go to work and when I get home, I'll weigh myself, hit the gym, eat, shower, have therapy, and then I'll start posting here exactly what I'm eating.  Maybe I'll weigh myself every other day to get a stable baseline as well.


House Project:


I've mentioned the stuff that I've gotten done so far.  Tonight, I plan on doing a few more loads of laundry and I might be done with it by the end of the day.  If so, that would be insane.  My plan is as follows:


-Move everything out of the Brown Carpet room and into the Red Carpet room

-Clean off the bureaus

-Move the bureaus into the Brown Carpet room

-Do 500 loads of laundry

-Fold all laundry and put into the bureaus

-Throw out all cardboard boxes

-Put all diapers, pee pads, kleenex, toilet paper, and soaps in the bathroom

-Throw out all the dirty diapers and grossness in the tub

-Put all knick-knacks into plastic containers and start stacking them into parts of the room

-Vacuum when new floorspace opens up

-Sort through all food in fridge, freezer, and cabinets: throw out what is bad

-Go through clothes and food: take what I/Sister wants, donate or burn the rest


Now, there's lots of other little projects, like emptying under the kitchen sink, cleaning out under the bathroom sink, cleaning out the bathroom closet, washing the floors, counters, and walls in the bathroom and kitchen, moving all of the Christmas decoration stuff, cleaning out the deck, cleaning out the hallway, doing something with all kitchen supplies, and the eventual donation/selling of all of the 'big' items like couches, chairs, entertainment center, glass hutch, etc.  All of these other things I'm dubbing as 'weekend projects', because it probably will take a solid weekend to do any of these things.  However, the biggest stuff is the bullet-point list that I have posted above.  Once those are dealt with, there is a lot more space available to then tackle these weekend projects.


Mental Health:

I'm kind of *here*.  I sometimes laugh and think that nothing even changed but then out of nowhere I get hit with feelings.  I have been texting a couple of people but at the same time, what else am I supposed to say?  Like, ok, condolences and then I need to say that my mom died overnight and was going on dialysis etc.  There's not much else to do but move forward.  I think that all of this is odd timing.  The fact that I started going to a therapist a month before my mom dies.  The fact that I got ahead on homework and my internship before it happened.  The fact that I started recapping my life with the therapist and then my challenge #50 starts where I was already planning on recapping everything that lead me here.  It being New Years and that's always when I get reminiscent and think a lot about my past.  It all sort of interconnects with itself.  I'm eating whole 30 - I had chicken caccitore and mixed vegetables and half an avocado last night.  I have half a steak with date-garlic-balsamic paste left, as well as more chicken cacciatore and some Italian wedding soup/cabbage roast meal mixed together as well.  I think I'm going to make Sunday be my batch-cooking day and also the 1 day I spend time with JJ.  Distancing myself from her during this whole ordeal has helped, too.  I reached out to different people and sort of....diversified my social connections so I don't feel like I'm relying too much on anyone in particular and I think it's helped me mentally.  I might make a public post on facebook or something to make sure everyone knows about this now so I don't have to talk about it anymore.  I've been checking in with a couple of people:  JJ, Ivy, Boo-Boo, Twizzler, Bestie, Emma (cute teacher), and Nate-Dogg (the other intern) as well as Sylvaa just messaging me seems to be a stable group that I'm interacting with.  I'm taking it one day at a time and not overwhelming myself with shit to do.  Instead, I'm just staying a little ahead and that seems to be removing most of my anxiety.  Bestie is coming over tonight to play Diablo 3.  Nate-Dogg, if he's not still sick, might be coming over Friday night.  Saturday I'll continue the house stuff, start that mid-term paper, and pick up the NF challenge recaps.  Sunday should be JJ and batch cooking.  So it seems like I'm on track.



I said that I was going to get through this challenge and FINISH it based on what I needed to do rather than time, and I fucking meant it.  Probably this weekend, I'm going to go back to recapping previous challenges.  I'm on Challenge #7 which was the birth of the adventure in RPG Fanatics and Sodamus.  I'll probably have this challenge moved into the next challenge and continue it.


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On 1/31/2019 at 1:01 PM, Tanktimus the Encourager said:

I agree about the timing of your mom's death coming when it did amidst all your growth. 

A though occurs to me that cleaning up your mom's house will keep you busy and away from JJ more. 

Seconding (thirding?)

My heart goes out to you...I admit my views on life and death are probably not in line with the mainstream but I'm always here if you need to vent, or talk

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I have been really frustrated and antsy the past couple of days and it finally culminated in me pouring how I felt out with this:


The past couple of days, I've had a lost of thoughts about myself  I've been telling myself that I just need a job in the field and to finish school and eventually I would have a couple clients and be good.  Like, I accepted that I will have a comfortable amount of money with working less than full-time hours.  These past couple of days though, I've been thinking about an assignment for one of my classes concerning 'continuing education'.  One of my monthly reflections or school is about how I don't want to do these dumb credits afterwards.  If I have to learn about 'motivational interviewing' for another 8-hour lecture for the rest of my life, I'm going to kill someone.  Since my mom died, I've had more and more confidence and I realize that this entire program has been a waste of my intelligence.  I'm capable of way more than the low bar that is set for this profession. Like, yes, you need to have emotional mastery but I've had a pretty solid grasp before I ever even started this program.  Everything feels like.. a refresher course.  I don't need to have a special class to tell me that when someone is suicidal, to NOT say 'oh but you have so much to live for'.  I know that already it invalidated their emotions and ostracizes them even more, so saying that is stupid.  I didn't need a class; I have fucking rational sense and critical thinking skills.  All of this time and I barely put in any real effort with school.  I barely put in effort in high school, in college, getting my bachelor's degree, and now with my masters.  It's all been a goddamn cake-walk and rehashing off the same shit.  When I want to learn, I'm a different animal. I have a lot of memory/storage in my brain to hold WAY more than what's been given.  So I've been having these feelings of emptiness - in a sense that I'm dreading this profession 'being it' for me.  I'm a lifelong learner andn the LAST thing I want is to hear the same lecture 100 times because this profession assumes I'm a fucking idiot that can't remember the lesson the first time.  I've found this entire profession to be an insult to my intellect and it's only recently that I've grown to hate the profession and the 'culture' of social workers.  Not because of the work being done: that's important and I care about my clients.  But rather, I grow tired of weak-minded people that don't ever seem to grasp and learn and comprehend.  It's insulting on their part.  It gives future social workers like myself a bad name because of their lack of self-awareness and lack of intellect.  I find their lack disturbing.  I normally get into conversations with people and I feel like they go nowhere: I grow tired and bored of most social interactions.  The same small minds saying the same small gossip about the same small other people/topics.  I feel like, without a challenge, I'm growing resentful and insane.  I often wonder if I have this imposter syndrome where maybe I'm just an idiot, because there's no possible way I'm the smartest and most competent person in every single scenario.  That comes off arrogant and cocky and I'm not that.  But I also don't have any evidence to the contrary.  I don't know what the fuck I'm doing:  I want a challenge.  I want to grow.  I want to expand my horizons.  Why the hell has this program not talked about the Seligman and Maier experiment?  About the Stanford experiements?  About the biology of stress and the amygdala and the roots of anxiety and depression?  Why the hell is this whole program so lackign in the fundamentals that shape and mold everything that this profession has to offer?  I'm so fucking BITTER about this program, these fucking idiots, these stupid worthless assignement.  In a mater of hours, HOURS, once I put away my anxiety, I was able to finish an entire class-worth of work and get aknist 1/3 of another class done.  That shouldn't be possible.  There should be something more here.  There should be something that makes me feel passion and alive.  When I learn, I feel my brain light up.  It's the same as when I do creative writing or paint.  It's when my adhd finally goes away.  It's this happy place that I have where I know that I'm becoming a better person *right in those moments* and I feel inspired and proud and happy to be alive.  Those moments within this program hasn't existed.  It's been sparingly - I can remember a project on Care For Older Adults class when I did a project on Alzheimers and I remember reading articles about tau protein and the unraveling of chains.  I was so fucking happy just learning from that article - it wasn't even relevant to my portion of the project but I didn't care.  I find myself reading articles all the time and I used to pour hours into wikipedia just learning about things through a rabbit-hole of open internet tabs.  I guess what I'm trying to say in all of this is I'm finally feeling what I already knew: that all of this entry-level learning is fucking beneath me and I'm ready for something serious.  Maybe it's because it's the last semester and I can see the end in sight, but I'm pissed hat this schooling soaked up so much of my life and gave me so much NEEDLESS anxiety.  It wasn't even productive.  I'm kicking myself for letting assignments build up and having anxious breakdowns where I would stare at a computer screen.  The other intern and I talked and I said it probably takes 1 hour-per-page of writing.  So an 8-page research paper takes about 8 hours.  He said it takes him at least 3 times longer than that.  I remember Sabrina and other students bitching about how long and difficult these papers were.  They weren't difficult; the explanation people gave in the syllabus were convoluted and vague.  THAT was the problem.  I never had a remote, 'oh jeez, this might be a challenge' thought in my brain.  I looked at assignements as glorified busywork and these past few days, it's really started to eat away at me.  What the hell IS a challenge for mem if I can write things that people read and tell me should be published and I wasn't even putting in any effort?  If my reflections to write 3 pages takes literally minutes and are thought-provoking and spur on a whole hour-long discussion in class?  If I can challenge and understand myself and write at length about any of these subjects with relative ease?  What the hell is going to push my boundaries and make me grow and evolve as a person? And I think that the losing weight/working out thing is starting to grate on me too because I want to just power through it and get solid results.  I'm tired of feeling trapped.  I'm tired and going insane feeling trapped in this stupid program for fucking peons.  I'm tired and going insane feeling trapped in this body when I know I can sculpt myself in a goddamn superhero.  I have the genes and determination.  I finally realize this.  It took almost 30 years but I'm ready.  I need a plan for how I can be the best person that's possible.


Thinking about what worked in the past has always been hatred.  I didn't lose weight because I loved myself.  I did it to prove people wrong.  I did it to rub it in my ex's fucking face and prove that she was who was holding me back.  It naturally turned into my habit and way of life.  When I think about the times that people want me to 'loosen up' and have junk food, it pisses me off.  I don't know what else to say:  hatred is what has worked before.  It has worked in smaller doses to this day.  The problem is when I am stressed, I lose that hatred and anger - it gets replaced with depression and anxiety.  And that starts my whole cycle.  Holidays when everyone wants to eat cookies and cakes and shit.  I push myself extra during those time because I don't want to be like them.  I don't want to be diabetic, and stabbing myself with insulin needles and on meds and fucking dying of kidney failure while waiting for dialysis.  I hate that people are like that - permissive of their goals, dreams, and aspirations.  Just letting things *happen* and having an attitude that we can't control everything - just let shit go, whatever, just do whatever, life happens and yadda yadda.  I hate that feeling of losing control.  I hate feeling weak.  I hate feeling vulnerable and like I can't handle it - so when things get harder, I get harder right back.  When I was a kid in 5th grade, I gave up chocolate for Lent.  Someone had a birthday and made chocolate cupcakes.  I refused to take one.  Why?  Because I didn't want to falter.  I didn't want to be like everyone else.  I wanted to prove to myself that I was better and prove myself as NOT weak - that I could handle it.  That feeling I had?  Hatred.  Anger.  It was me being furious at what everyone else did in life and angry that I was weak like them.  Anger is the key for me.  I need to keep a sustainable amount of rage.  When I'm stressed, the anger fades and I spiral.  I eat junk, think I'm a loser, gut biomes are a wreck and making me depressed, feeling anxious and stress eating, not having the energy and I lose sleep.  It's a downward momentum.  When I strip stress away, I'm left with an angry man.  A furious man.  And that anger becomes motivation and fuel for being better and giving society the middle finger and saying,


'Fuck you and your limited edition oreos and your deep friend shit sandwiches that only want me to be a slave to your fast food corporation and be a fat piece of shit that hates myself and makes me dependent, like a fucking drug addict, on your garbage.  I'm not a fucking whore,  This bullshit keeps me thinking that this food is the only thing that will make me happy.  It KEEPS ME ACTING LIKE MY MOM AND STAYING A SLAVE TO THIS DISGUSTING SHIT THAT SAPS AWAY MY WILL TO LIVE AND BE A BETTER PERSON! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FOREVER.  I'M NOT ONE OF YOUR SHEEP AND I NEVER WANT TO BE EVER AGAIN.  YOU MIGHT HAVE THE REST OF THE WORLD AS A BUNCH OF BRAIN-DEAD FUCKING ADDICTS THAT CAN'T RISE ABOVE YOUR MENTAL MANIPULATION, MARKETING, AND PROMOS BUT I'M NOT ONE OF THEM.  I'M BETTER THAN THAT.  YOU HEAR ME?! YOU HEAR ME?!'


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There is my Hammer Brother. The fire burning bright within.

You are without a doubt one of the most intelligent men I know. Stretch and challenge that intelligence, fuel your determination with directed rage make Superman a snivelling dim-witted weakling compared to you.

Sent from my CPH1725 using Tapatalk

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So I know the new challenge is up but what I'm thinking of doing is transferring this challenge over to the next time-slot so I can keep going with the challenge recaps.  I didn't want to spread that out into multiple challenges and I didn't get very far.  Although I can't really blame myself: not every challenge that half of the family you have left dies.  Regardless, I know I want to keep going with this so I might end up making two concurrent challenges.  I haven't really decided because I don't want to 'miss' challenge 51 technically because I'm still doing challenge #50 which happens to be huge, ya know?


Anyways, Sunday morning I woke up at 4am feeling like a can of smashed assholes.  I ran to the bathroom and started burped and ended up puking and getting the chills.  My body is just a mess.  I caught the flu the week that my mom died and as soon as I start feeling better, I catch some sort of stomach bug.  I'm thinking the stress has my immune system in the dumps but I can't let it get me down: I just need to take care of myself and keep juggling everything I have on my plate.


I finished the 'Goals' assignment in my Clinical Social Work II class and I'm doing my powerpoint presentation on my article as well as my counter-transference example tonight.  After tonight, I'll be 1/3 done with that classwork.  That means this weekend, I'm going to start working on my mid-term for that class and also seeing what I need to do for Case Consultation (Monday) class.


I'm currently at my internship: I told my supervisor that I wanted more cases so I'm currently doing therapy with 3 of the guys from the house.  I'll see how that goes.



I'm sticking to whole30 for the past couple of days - almost not by choice seeing as how I would get ill and I've only been eating little bits of meat and veggies and fruit.  My appetite isn't back yet and the thought of food makes me feel sick still so I'm force-feeding myself to eat some vegetable beef soup that I made from scratch, or some chicken thighs and green beans.  I simply don't have the physical energy to do any sort of beast workout, as much as I want to.  I'm figuring that by Friday I should feel healthy enough and I'll go to the gym again.  If I'm feeling REALLY good tomorrow then I might try and hit the gym after my first job, before my second job.


In terms of the cleaning/hoarding:  After I got violently ill on Sunday, I think I need a mask.  It's like a biohazard in there with the paper towels that have been soaked in dog piss, random cat shit, and other just....grossness.  Going back in that main bedroom is going to make me sick again I think, so I'll be getting a mask and attempting some more cleaning Saturday, probably.  Between today and Saturday, I'm on auto-pilot with internship, class, work, work, internship, class, work, work, and then it'll be the weekend.  In the meantime, I have another 2 loads of laundry of her clothes to do.


I'm not sure what my next challenge should be about.  I feel like the purging/anger angle that I titled a lot of my challenges is overused and I need something new.  I don't know - it's been 50 challenges now; I should mix it up a bit.

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1 hour ago, Teros said:

So I know the new challenge is up but what I'm thinking of doing is transferring this challenge over to the next time-slot so I can keep going with the challenge recaps.  I didn't want to spread that out into multiple challenges and I didn't get very far.  Although I can't really blame myself: not every challenge that half of the family you have left dies.  Regardless, I know I want to keep going with this so I might end up making two concurrent challenges.  I haven't really decided because I don't want to 'miss' challenge 51 technically because I'm still doing challenge #50 which happens to be huge, ya know?

What you could do is move you challenge forward into the next set of forums, and write a post about the continuation and extension of challenge #50. You can consider everything from there on Challenge 51. That way anyone can look back at your old posts, and there is a clear delineation between 50 and 51.

1 hour ago, Teros said:

In terms of the cleaning/hoarding:  After I got violently ill on Sunday, I think I need a mask.  It's like a biohazard in there with the paper towels that have been soaked in dog piss, random cat shit, and other just....grossness.  Going back in that main bedroom is going to make me sick again I think, so I'll be getting a mask and attempting some more cleaning Saturday, probably.  Between today and Saturday, I'm on auto-pilot with internship, class, work, work, internship, class, work, work, and then it'll be the weekend.  In the meantime, I have another 2 loads of laundry of her clothes to do.

When you do buy masks, don't go cheap. Get something with N95 on the label. They aren't that much more expensive, and they are what is used in healthcare to block Tuberculosis. The cheaper ones are designed to protect people from your germs, not to protect you from other germs. Amazon has plenty on sale.

1 hour ago, Teros said:

I feel like the purging/anger angle that I titled a lot of my challenges is overused and I need something new. 

Given how you are having to clean your mother's house, purging could probably work for another challenge or so till you are done. The anger bit won't sustain you forever, emotions fade over time and they aren't sufficient motivation over the long term.

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13 hours ago, Teros said:

what I'm thinking of doing is transferring this challenge over to the next time

It's what all the cool Guild Leaders do these days :D


13 hours ago, Teros said:

I'm thinking the stress has my immune system in the dumps

Thought of that too. Kudos for not letting that derail you.

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My laptop's power cord was stolen on Tuesday and I've been computerless since right about.... now.


I moved this challenge over to the new one and I'm considering it challenge #50 & 51.


I'm still far enough ahead with schoolwork that missing this week didn't have any effect on me, really.  I've been going to class, going to work, going to internship.  Everything is sort of on autopilot.  I did more cleaning this weekend.  Thanks, @Tanktimus the Encourager about the deets related to a mask.  I'll be getting one of those in the near future.  For now, with my immune system still on the mend, I'm focusing on some smaller stuff.  For instance, I scrubbed the toilet, put up a new shower curtain, put a bunch of the paper goods and soaps away, vacuumed the living room, dining room, hallway, cleaned off the dining room table so it's usable now.  This is on top of the cleaning for my own living space, where I vacuumed the living room bedroom, washed the tile hallway, and did 2 loads of laundry.  I also did whole30 batch cooking for the week. 


I made:


-Fried up some burgers and then cooked a bunch of peppers, onions, mushrooms, and this paleo spice blend that I really like which has lemon zest, cocoa powder, majoram, and some other spices in it.  It gives a really earthy and rich flavor to food.


-Apple-chicken sausages and boiled some cabbage wedges with some garlic and balsamic vinegar


-Spicy Cajun ground sausage and scallops with mixed veggies


-Mega-Pork fried cauliflower rice, with coconut aminos and sesame seed oil, a whole head of cauliflower that I grated, bok choy, onions, and a couple pork chops that I cooked and diced into chunks


I still have a couple chicken thighs leftover from last week, as well as a little bit of beef stew.



A ladyfriend of mine is coming over for dinner and a movie.  Going to enjoy the rest of the evening.  When she leaves, I'll probably do the small Tuesday assignment that I want over with.  Tomorrow I have work for a couple hours and NO CLASS, which means I'm going to finally start working on my mid-term like I wanted to this past week.  I'll have more of a theme with my next post: I wanted to get something posted here for now.  I feel like doing something horror-related.  OH!  That's what I wanted to mention:  I had some free time during my internship on Thursday and I started up my H.P. Lovecraft collection book and between this, learning a little bit about Dark Souls, and starting to play Diablo 3 again; I have this internal itch to write.  The wheels are spinning.  I don't know if that's the 'theme' yet or if I'm going to randomly be possessed to write and end up posting a short story here one day.  Not sure.

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I have a little time to write while I'm at my internship.


Sunday night was very nice.  I made dinner for a new ladyfriend from the Dominican Republic whose nickname is 'Wally'.  She came over and we were talking for a couple hours. I made some yellow curry chicken with onions and peppers.  The first time we met, she did a lot of talking and she wanted to know more about me.  The conversation got around to artwork and I talked about RPG Fanatics.  I had a tab open up so I could show her the map that I had made for the campaign.  I recounted how it worked and she seemed really impressed.  I really like Wally.  She's not who I'm looking for in a relationship or anything, but being in the company of a gorgeous woman and able to make jokes and be comfortable around a new face is extremely welcome.  Even if I have no intention of more, I like learning about new people and getting to know them better. 


Oh!  That reminds me, I talked to a gorgeous woman at work who I've said  couple words to here and there.  I let her know that I wasn't looking to date, but she is always upbeat and positive and she seems like a great person to be around so I wanted to know if we could hang out some time.  I now have her number. Nickname: Dali. My social circle is growing.  Right now:








Seeing as how I have work/school every weekday, this means all I have for socializing time is the weekend.  Weekend is also for cleaning the house, errands, batch cooking, and homework so obviously I'm stretched too thin with this many people.  But whatever, I have options and that's what matters.  With that, it's time to continue my original plan of recapping:




925 replies?  Holy shit that's awesome.  Almost exactly 5 years ago, I started up the RPG Fanatics. It was the start of something special.  I had some ideas that I was kicking around for over a month beforehand.  But I wasn't sure if it was going to take off.  I mean, I wrote in journals and shit, but I didn't do much creative writing.  I had no confidence in my writing skills.  What if I suck at it?  What if no one cares about the story?  What if I'm wasting my time?  I decided to shelve all of those thoughts and instead, start a story that would span a pretty long time.  A short recap of the Lore:


Teros the satyr was at the Adventurer's Town.  He was raving like a madman in the streets, saying that there was something bringing the end-times.  There was a huge secret, a myth, a legend, that was unfolding - and he had proof.  Being able to sneak out of the crowded streets away from the authorities, a ragtag group of soon-to-become heroes banded together at the tavern and listened to the satyr's evidence.  It was a small goblin that he captured.  The group followed the captured goblin guide through the sewers, to eventually come face-to-face with a horror of the deep: Sodamus.  Sodamus was slain, along with his goblin worker-hoard; thus sparking a domino effect within the Realm.  Letting people write their character reactions and thoughts during the challenge turned out really helpful and immersive.  I wanted to have fleshed-out characters, but I didn't want to just assign people into roles, you know?  So instead I created the framework and people populated and shifted the events moving forward.  The decision to spare someone (or something) became monumental literally YEARS later.



My challenge at this time was:





Right here was when I was crushed because of the MSW program:

On 2/21/2014 at 4:22 AM, Teros said:

The woman at orientation lied to me about appealing the rejection to make everyone at orientation feel better.  There is NO appeal process. I'm rejected from school 100%.  But my g/f got in.  We did senior year of high school together (yes we're high-school sweethearts) and we did community college together... and we did our bachelor's together; because we both want to do the same thing. But now, with the Master's program (the hardest of the hard), she's doing it on her own.


Fast-forward to today: everyone hates the woman that lied to me at orientation.  Like, she's known by the entire program as being shady and a scumbag.


I forgot that I did shitty drawings once in a while as I went back to re-read this challenge:

On 2/25/2014 at 2:06 PM, Teros said:

Totally forgot to upload these this morning.  Enjoy my crude drawings.






During this challenge, my mom had already done a whole30 successfully and was doing a lot better health-wise; but by this point she reverted back to her old ways of eating and got worse and worse:


On 2/27/2014 at 5:04 AM, Teros said:

So my mom has a really bad case of gout in her right elbow. She doesn't know why it happened....ugh. I told her to go back to whole 30. She doesn't think that's why.


Some backstory: My mom is overweight and would usually eat 2 bowls of cereal with peanut butter covered toast as roughly 50% of her diet. The rest would be cakes, cookies, and doughnuts to 'have with her coffee'.  She basically makes pasta and meatballs, or stew with tons of white potatoes.  That's really the overwhelming majority of her diet.  So she's been overweight (derp) for decades because of this food.  Her right hand would be really stiff when she woke up every morning and it would stay like that for a big chunk of time.  She didn't know why this was happening. 


Now, she's seen me do a few whole 30s and I finally convinced her to try it.  Guess what? Her 'unexplainable' hand cramp/stiffness went away after a week. She had been dealing with it for over 8 MONTHS.  So she finishes her whole 30 and slowly goes back to eating random crap.  And now this arm/gout hits. She says she has no idea why.  HMMMMMMM..... Let's think about this.  Gout is tied in with too much uric acid. It also usually occurs because of insulin problems. (Pre-whole 30 she was taking 140mg of diabetes meds and after whole 30 she was down to using 50mg.) 


THIS RIGHT HERE is so fucking pertinent for me today.  I keep going back to my old ways and regretting it and getting worse.  You would think I would learn the lesson by now:  Whole30 makes me feel like a totally different human being.  My gut biome or whatever is great.  I sleep better. I lift heavier.  I have stable energy through the day.  Headaches go away.  Going to the bathroom is better.  Stomach aches go away.  I lose a fuckton of weight (and all the other things that's tied to that like not breathing heavy when walking up stairs, not having chafing between my legs and sores, etc.).  My confidence is through the room.  Anxiety goes away.  Depression goes away.  It's like night and day with who I am as a person. I feel like I'm Teros when I'm on whole30.  Yet I keep falling into the same rut and it's always because I come up with EXCUSES to not stay on track. I try and justify having some milk, which then leads to some candy, which leads to chips, which leads to ruining the night, which leads to depression, which leads to doing that shit over and over.  I justify a holiday, or socializing with people, or whatever.  I can't have excuses.  I can't revert back to my 'old way' of eating.  For some people, they can have a 'bad night' and binge eat some garbage and then the next day they wake up and go back to their version of 'normal'.  That has never in my entire fucking life EVER happened.  It doesn't matter if I have best intentions - if this junk is in my system in some way, I'm still an addict and will probably relapse.


My mom refused to see the power of whole30.  She refused to understand just how much of a health difference eating like that was.  I noticed it about her too: she had more energy.  Her damn gout went away.  She was able to move around more.  She didn't seem as miserable.


I think that this was denial on her part.  She had to have known that she ate garbage and was sickly, then when she ate whole30 she wasn't sickly.  Admitting this would mean she needed to accept the reality that she SHOULD be eating whole30 from now on.  Rather than do that, she chose to be ignorant of this and made the same repeated mistake for a couple more years until she died.  I....can't follow in those footsteps.  I don't want to be 400 pounds and have a heart attack and die in my 30s.  I finally am able to get all my OTHER shit in my life on track.  I'm graduating in literally 2.5 months!  I have a job in the social work field!  I have connections for even better jobs!  I'm working on saving money and getting through this without any debt!  Like, this shit is fucking huge for me.  I feel like I'm finally at a point where I can show that I'm an adult.  Debt-free, degree, on the path towards a good job that is fulfilling.  I can't have that robbed from me by slacking on my health.


I've been thinking about this a lot, especially after talking to my therapist.  I feel....freer now.  I remember years and years ago, my mom telling me that she was relieved when her dad died because she finally felt like she didn't have to prove anything.  I remember her telling me that I would probably feel the same way; that I would feel like I could just be me once she was gone.  Although I don't want to admit it, she's right.  There is so much less pressure in my life now that she's gone.  Some of it was probably imagined, I think.  But regardless, I don't have to live up to anyone's expectations except my own.  For one of my school assignments, I had to write about continuing education goals and it made me do some research.  I'm thinking that I want to get involved with my old school I got my Bach. degree at.  They have a group that works with neurobiology and has clinicians that work with people who have traumatic brain injuries. It's an all-encompassing group.  I've always been fascinated by the brain and looking up information on this neurobiology group made me think about it being a possible direction I want to go once I get out of school.  I also found out about a group that does art therapy and it has been something I've had an interest in as well.


All of this made me start re-assessing who I am.  It feels like I've been trying to pinpoint exactly WHO the fuck I am for so long.  Decades at least.  There was a time I wrote in a journal about what my partner would be like.  Where I would live.  What I would do for fun.  I've come to the conclusion that I'm so far behind in life.  Like....I can't learn 8 instruments within my lifetime.  I can't have a house-tower that I build from scratch.  I can't be with tons of different people.  I can't work on everything. I can't learn everything.  I'm at this weird crossroad where I know about things I'm interested in, but how much time in my life can I devote to it?  For instance, let's say learning an instrument takes 4 years.  Am I going to spend the next 4 x 8 = 32 years learning instruments?  Painting takes a couple years so will I spend 3 years learning painting? How many years for glassblowing?  How many years for candle-making?  By the same token, how many years can I spend learning medicine?  Learning 2 more languages?  There's so much fucking.... STUFF and I'm not  sure where to go.  What I'm doing for the next 3 months is finishing my degree and internship.  That's set in stone.  But after that, I need to study to get my social worker license and then what?  The neurofeedback route? Neurobiology/traumatic brain injury route? Homeless care route?  Art therapy route?  Just jump into my own private practice?  Do I move out of the state?  Do I stay in the northeast? Do I move to Philly?  New York?  Canada? Germany?  Sweden?  Do I learn to ride a motorcycle and get one?  Do I want to live in the heart of the city and have a nightlife where I learn how to dance and do some clubbing and casual dating?  Do I want to settle down on the outskirts of the city and have a small ranch and grow blueberry and strawberry bushes and some other crops; and chop wood and have a lumberjack-like lifestyle outside of my profession?  What books do I want to read?  What skills do I want to master?  I don't even KNOW where to begin with this in about 3 months.  I feel like, especially when factoring in my mom's passing; that there is even less tethering me to where I currently am in life.  And I mean, if I decide to move, I should see about if I need to pass the license exam again in another state since there are different certifications/qualifications.


I've been wondering how people have no interest in anything.  Like, how is that even POSSIBLE? How is it possible to work a meh job and then go home and watch NCIS and then go to bed?  How is it possible to only do that in life for 90% of the next decade or 2 of your life?  Why is there no interest in new books, skills, and activities?  Like, JJ works at her property management job and then comes home and watches tv (or plays diablo 3 with me) and that's it.  There's nothing past that sort of day-to-day. There's no overarching goals or plans.  How does someone wake up one day and realize, "Oh my god, I've spent the past 7 years doing NOTHING different and not changing?"    Like....is that life?  I know that I have too many ideas, too many plans, too many thoughts and actions. 


I think another serious issue that's going on is the timing of everything.  Let me think about this:  I was in high school and got with my ex.  We stayed together (as you can see in the post above) for a few challenges while I was here.  We were together 12 years, and then she stayed living with me for another 9 months and making life fucking horrible.  Once she left, I burned all my shit in a fire and got my life on track with getting into school.  A couple weeks later and I started school and I've been there since.  I almost feels like.... I haven't had a chance to really explore who the hell I am or what I want because I was in a toxic relationship that was a stranglehold of no self-growth.  Then school was a massive time-sink and anxiety-creator until uh....now-ish.  I've been restricted and occupied nonstop since I was a teenager.  I'm in my early 30s now and I'm just now wondering what the fuck I'm doing.  That couple of weeks in August after I burned my shit, but before I started class was INSANE.  I was catching up so much in my life.  It felt like I was so mentally free and I remember barely sleeping for weeks while I got shit done.  It was close to some sort of manic episode.  And now, here I am with my mom gone and I'm almost just....waiting for school to end so I can pick up where I left off 3 years ago before school started.


It's so weird to me.  I haven't really experienced life.  As a child, it was food and videogames.  Escapism for the entirety of my life.  I went to school and then did my homework and went back to food and videogames.  I didn't experience anything.  Maybe this is how people spend decades not growing but I feel like as a kid, I didn't know any better.  That was my life from 5th grade to 12th grade, which then my ex became the time-soak, along with more food and videogames.  Then resentment and more self-hatred.  I got here on NF and started to see a spark of something else: like maybe life DOESN'T have to be me feeling like a worthless piece of shit in a failed and loveless relationship, working a job I hate.  Then those 3 magical weeks without my ex and it was back to school to get my MSW.  It's like I've been in a coma since I was 5 and I woke up for a couple weeks and then went back into a coma and now I'm in my 30s.  It's like I've been drowning underwater with depression, anxiety, and self-loathing for so long and I started to climb out but then was swept back into the rapids and I finally see the shore where I'll be able to wash up on land this May.  My last days of class and internship are on my 34th birthday.  At 34, I'll finally feel completely free.  And...I don't know how to handle it.  Part of me is foaming at the mouth with anticipation.  Another part of me is utterly terrified.  What the fuck do I do on, say, May 12th this year when I wake up and don't have school?  Don't have work?  Don't have homework?  Don't have internship?  Don't have anxiety and drama and obligations?  What the hell do I do when I'm mentally free?  I'm free of my ex.  I'm free of my mom.  And in May, I'm free of school.  What do I do?




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What do you do? Whatever you want to do. Riiiight. Too many choices. When I finally got free of my abusers, I was looking at my retirement years arriving in a fairly short time, so a lot of my choices were removed for me which made things a lot simpler. Medical school? Not enough years left to make it make sense. Small farm? Getting old here, and don't want to work that hard without help. Motorcycle? Yes, that I can and did do. Live in Nevada or Oregon? Visited and decided nope.  If you were my kid, I would say just get out there and  LIVE for a year. Try out everything. Live in a city for a few weeks and go clubbing every night. Live in the country for a few weeks and see if you can stand the quiet. Read the books. Road trip to check in with NF friends. Get started on one of the skills. Interview and shadow, if possible, people actually doing the jobs you are considering. See the pieces of the world you want to see. You won't like all of it and can cross some of it off your list. Keep the stuff that makes you happy.  Get some kind of job for money but not necessarily your forever job. Don't settle down just yet. Back in the dinosaur days (as I refer to my youth), it was kind of a rite of passage to take a year off after school and backpack through the country to "find myself" before settling down. (Do kids do that anymore?) Before that wealthy families would send their kids on The Grand Tour of Europe to finish their education.  I would say take at least some time, a year would be reasonable, to try some of those things on your list before you get locked down into a life long career. Good luck.

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22 hours ago, Teros said:

But I wasn't sure if it was going to take off.  I mean, I wrote in journals and shit, but I didn't do much creative writing.  I had no confidence in my writing skills.  What if I suck at it?  What if no one cares about the story?  What if I'm wasting my time?

Quoted for, in hindsight, understatement of the century

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RPG Fanatics was Nerd Fitness to me at that time. Writing those responses to the story, creating a back story for my character/me was my first foray into that sort of creative writing.

Most of my NF friends were Fanatics.

As for you moving forward, start by reading SJ Scott's Novice to Expert. Its only a couole of bucks on Kindle. We dont need to be experts in everything, sometimes having a passing skill is sufficient.

Take languages, my Linguistics Professor said that if we know the top 100 words used in that language we can make ourselves understood even if our syntax sucks.

The same for musical instruments. Do you want to play in a concert hall, or just for those close to you? Knowing half a dozen songs may suffice for entertainment of a few mates and personal enjoyment.

Buy a motorbike, they are cheaper to run. Take weekend road trips to areas you are interested in living and explore them.

With the average lifespan being around 90 you have another sixty years up your sleeve. Plenty of time to do some interesting shit.

Sent from my CPH1725 using Tapatalk

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Holy crap I dropped off reading others’ posts st the wrong time this year. I’m sorry to hear about your mom. 


You could definitely learn 8 instruments in life. I mean, you probably won’t be Charlie Parker on all of them, but I learned something like 6 decently in high school. It helped having experience in the trumpet and piano. If you pick your starter mindfully you can easily become good at several. 


Both my wife and I are feeling the “what do we do” in a way as well. Neither of us see children as a life’s calling, though we have several and both like them. So it’s interesting to read your post above, written the same day we stayed up half the night talking about similar things for our own lives. I feel a combination of young and old at the same time. 

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On 2/12/2019 at 5:24 PM, Emma said:

I would say just get out there and  LIVE for a year.


That's what I'm leaning towards.  I need to have a plan that allots a certain amount of time to experiment with each thing. 


On 2/13/2019 at 10:51 AM, DarK_RaideR said:

Quoted for, in hindsight, understatement of the century


Thanks, man.  I'll be writing the next section in due time.


On 2/14/2019 at 7:01 AM, Thom Stépan said:

Knowing half a dozen songs may suffice for entertainment of a few mates and personal enjoyment.

Yeah, I'm not looking to be a pro at any instrument.  I want to make some youtube videos as an art form.


On 2/14/2019 at 7:01 AM, Thom Stépan said:

Plenty of time to do some interesting shit.


Oh I will.


On 2/17/2019 at 12:15 PM, Sciread77 said:

If you pick your starter mindfully you can easily become good at several. 


How do I decide my starter 'mindfully'?  I have a guitar and an ocarina but I'm figuring guitar.


On 2/17/2019 at 12:15 PM, Sciread77 said:

I feel a combination of young and old at the same time.

Interesting perspective. I've felt that way a lot in my late teens, actually.


So it's been a few days since I've posted and for good reason.  I had the best dream of my life and the worst nightmare of my life back-to-back.  This resulted in my first ever (and hopefully last) panic attack.


Last week, I had my first, I guess, lucid dream.  I was cleaning my childhood room and as I was doing that, Lyn turned the corner and asked what I was up to.  My brain said, "She's too tall" (she looked about 5'8 even though she's 5'2).  My dream did a double-take and She came around the corner again, but this time she was 4'11.  My brain said, "Now she's too short" and my brain did a triple-take and she turned the corner at 5'2.  We were talking for a couple of minute in that doorway and eventually, we grabbed each other and I pushed her against the closet in the bathroom (across the hall).  I should note that I never have first-person dreams: all of my dreams are third-person.  I can see us making out and she has her arms wrapped around me, hands digging into my back, just below my shoulder blades.


The voice in my head that brought up her height was remorseful and said, "You should stop this..." I asked why.  The other voice said, "Because you'll wake up and realize this isn't real."


I woke up.  And I felt a sore pain right under both of my shoulder blades, like her hands were still there.  This didn't fade for a couple of minutes as I sat there in bed, breathing and looking around the dark room.




The Nightmare:


I'm....hesitant to write about this because of how real it felt.  I was in my bed, in my childhood room again.  This time, I was looking out the doorway, across the hall, into the room across from me.  It was my mom's room.  I could see my mom in her bed and I saw her right hand curled up.  She was dead.  Suddenly, I felt panic and I rushed to my bedroom door and closed it shut.  The voice in my brain told me that I shouldn't open the door, because I knew, I just KNEW that my mom would be at the door.  I try to call someone and I get no answer.  My heartbeat is faster even retelling this. I need a second...


I was at the door and my brain told me not to open the door.  I opened it and it was my mom, dead, standing up.  Her right hand was shriveled like when she died. Her mouth was open like when she died.  She was pale white like when she died.  Her head was tilted upwards like when she died.  Her face was pressed against the door - that's how close she was to me when I opened it.  I scream as loud as I can and I rush towards my bed.  I turn back around and she's on top of me.  Her dead body is pinning me against the side of the bed and I start to slump down, in a diagonal way.  I scream and push her away as hard as I can but nothing works: I'm stuck underneath her.  I can't breathe as I'm not able to shove my mom's dead body off of me and I snap awake.


I wake up panicked.  I had fallen asleep on the couch at JJ's place.  I lean forward onto the coffee table and I'm gripping it as hard as I can and I start crying.  I don't know what the hell that was.  I feel insane, like I'm really close to snapping in some way.  I walk to JJ's bedroom and I can't even explain what happened: I just lean against her and start crying and I can't stop.  She asks me what's going on and I say I can't tell her.  I have some thought that if I say the nightmare out loud, it will have power over me and I'll panic.  After about 5 minutes of crying non-stop, I start to tell JJ and I feel like I can't breathe.  My heart is racing.  I feel like my sight is blurring.  I feel this overwhelming terror grip me.  I've never been so scared in my entire life.  I start screaming at the top of my lungs, my hands covering my mouth but I can't stop.  I slump off the bed and I'm sitting on the floor, hunched over, screaming and crying at the same time.  This fear overwhelms me and I start punching a nearby cardboard box, so hard that I smash it down and end up hammer-punching the floor about 20 times as I'm screaming and crying and trying to breathe.  I feel like I'm going to pass out.  I don't feel anything when I'm punching the floor as hard as possible.  Eventually, all of the energy is drained from me and I'm sobbing and holding myself in the corner against the bed.  I'm able to force myself to breathe.  I had been asleep less than 2 hours when the nightmare woke me up.  I don't sleep that night.  The next night I work until midnight and I'm fighting to stay awake and not go to sleep.  I eventually pass out sitting down in the living room chair for 2 hours that night.  As soon as I wake up, I don't even attempt to go back to sleep.  I was terrified for sleeping for 3 nights but eventually this weekend I fell asleep and got a few hours.  I'm starting to feel ok with sleep now.




This dream and nightmare have been playing in my mind a lot these past couple of days.  As much as I'm told that dreams don't necessarily 'mean anything', I think there is meaning here.  I finally feel ok enough to write about it and gather my thoughts on it.


There are too many parallels and too much duality for me to ignore this.  In both the dream and the nightmare, there was a voice in my head that was telling me not to continue.  In both instances, I did it anyway and paid the price.  In both the dream and nightmare, I was in my childhood room and in the back corner from the door.  In both the dream and the nightmare, I felt something residual after I woke up.  In the dream, I was the 'aggressor', and pushed out of the room with Lyn.  In the nightmare, I was on the 'defensive' and was pushed back inside the room and was trapped.  I pinned Lyn against the closet door in the dream.  I was pinned against the bed in the nightmare.


There's a lot of....fucked up shit that I've been thinking about with all of this.  As much as I want to be mature and understanding, deep down I hated my mom.  I resented her.  And I felt like I was never good enough, always made to feel like I was small, insignificant, and that I didn't matter.  I always felt like I was being controlled and manipulated.  I always felt like I was never able to be myself.  I felt metaphorically pinned down by my mom, and when she died, I finally felt free.  There's all this anger, and resentment, and depression, and these feelings of frustration and loss.  My therapist said that I was 'double grieving'.  I was grieving the death of my mom, but also grieving the fact that we will never have a 'good' relationship.  My mom's dead.  My dad, I've never met.  Most of my aunts and uncles are all dead between cancer, insane asylum, heart attack, etc.  We lost 5 household pets in roughly a year.  My whole family consists of my older sister and that's it.  I'm parentless in my early 30s. 


I'm thinking a lot about what I'm doing after school.  My last post on here was about that - that there's all this freedom and in a way, it's crippling.  I thought at one time that Lyn was my future, and my dead mom is my past.  I've been plagued for a long time with me not knowing what makes a person, wondering what a human being is outside of traits, experiences, and biology.  I've grappled with this for multiple challenges and I came to the conclusion that all a person really is, truly is, is the Will to Power: the embodiment of change.  The motivation, that little kernel of something inside that tells you to walk one more mile, do one more rep, stay up a little longer and finish that paper.  That sort of better self, ideal self, conceptualized into a reality and personality.  That is what people are.  Our past experiences don't have to define us.  Our personality traits can be things we work on changing and therefore aren't permanent.  This dream and nightmare is my subconscious screaming at me about these issues.  The manifest content and the latent content here have direct correlation to what I've been worried about.  I've wanted satisfaction, fulfillment, some some of happiness, and a challenge.  And I'm seeing in life that there is none.  There is time-wasting and lots of mediocre people doing mediocre things.  I'm feeling lost and empty for one, because I have Borderline Personality Disorder, and two, because the deeper I dig into my subconscious and the more existential I get, it seems the less information I have.  I'm at a point now where I can't simply theory-craft and project abstract ideas.  I need to have experiences.  I've been thinking a great deal about what I'm willing to suffer for.  There are plenty of things that I want to do, but what do I want to invest the time/effort/emotions into?  Like with the instruments: how much do I want to suffer for it in order to be good at guitar?  How much do I want to suffer for a certain career or a certain person in my life?  I'm left shedding more and more and finding myself less detached to people, places, and things.  This has been gradual ever since I burned all my stuff a couple years ago.  The more I think, the more I let go.  I feel like I'm existentially wandering.  And this wandering creates fear and panic.  I'm an INTJ: everything needs to have order, logic, reason, rationality.  So to rip all that away leaves me feeling less like myself.  It makes me feel like I'm not anyone.  I'm not anything.  I'm simply a collection of vague thoughts encased in a meat shell.  Without that spark of motivation; without the Will To Power, everything that defines me falls apart.  I need order and logic in a seemingly chaotic and illogical world and this shortcoming is what creates friction, disappointment, anxiety, and depression.




Reading this over, it's become apparent that I need some sort of plan.  I need a bucket list and a strategy for how to catalog everything that I want to do.  I need a what, when, how, etc for this.  Maybe I need to just have a brain-dump of things and can then work on a more tangible plan afterwards:


-Learn guitar

-Learn piano

-Learn bass

-Learn drums

-Learn how to sing

-Learn oil-based Bob Ross painting

-Learn sketching/drawing

-Learn blacksmithing

-Learn candlemaking

-Learn glassblowing

-Learn to speak Spanish

-Learn to speak German

-Learn how to ride a motorcycle

-Learn how to build/fix a motorcycle

-Learn 10+ different cuisines/culinary types

-Learn electrical mechanics

-Learn organic chemistry

-Learn art therapy

-Learn narrative therapy

-Learn dialectal behavioral therapy

-Learn carpentry

-Learn medicine

-Learn sewing/clothes-making

-Learn neurofeedback

-Learn neurobiology/cognitive neurology

-Learn how to salsa dance

-Learn chess

-Beat an outdoor spartan race

-Beat a spartan sprint

-Beat a spartan beast

-Beat a tough mudder

-Beat a warrior dash

-Beat a rugged maniac

-Beat a hammer race

-Beat Dark Souls 1, 2, & 3

-Write 4 books

-Be in an MMA fight

-Make multiple cosplay outfits

-Make a Let's Play on youtube or twitch

-Go to a lively church/church experiment

-Meet NF people

-Live in the city/nightlife

-Live in the country


-Visit New York again

-Visit Boston again

-Visit Philadelphia

-Visit Chicago

-Visit Oregon

-Travel to Canada

-Travel to Germany

-Travel to France

-Travel to Ireland/Scotland/England

-Travel to Greece

-Travel to Sweden

-Travel to Belgium

-Travel to New Zealand

-Travel to Australia

-Travel to Japan

-Get a double-sleeve tattoo wrap-around

-Change my birth certificate name



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That nightmare sounds terrifying. I've said very little about you having BPD because my exwife has it, and I don't want to project any of my feelings about her on to you. I will say though, that identity issues are not uncommon with people who have BPD (pwBPD as an acronym will make this post easier). pwBPD sometimes get their identity from those they are around, which is part of why some pwBPD don't like being alone. I don't know how all that plays out for you. It's possible part of the extra grief with losing your mom is that, as negative as that relationship was, part of your identity was derived from you-in-relation-to-your-mom. If that's the case, losing her in a sense is losing a part of yourself. Again, this is all speculation, and I offer it as food for thought. 

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