...at least we can joke about it now, what do I know

Discussion in 'Ages 30-39' started by dark red drifter vessel, Sep 8, 2017.

  1. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Ship breaking. Not as in anything self harm. Nothing of that. Heart's gone. Falling apart, been doing that a while now. Won't be the same later on. Porn's not a problem. Hasn't been for a while now. Maybe it's time to set sails. Be something else.
    positivef likes this.
  2. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    so. been dating a bit, getting laid here once and there one time. enough of it.

    I hate my job. my love has sailed on. autumns coming, soon. it's time to change and be something else, too.
    leave the dying embers of this camp behind and get the fuck on with my life. do somtehing else.

    will be back in october the latest.

    so long, do not let the coming fall swallow yer hearts.
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  3. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    man the title is kinda shit. helo. I still walk this earth :3

    well. what happened? got into drugs (as in weed and beer. watching mandalorian high was FUN man.)
    sorta over the boyfriend, but also super burnt with romance and love. revisited an old relationship of mine
    when I helped a friend through his break up with a fine example of borderline. -.- digging was fun, realized how much scar tissue I myself still have.

    we do be having a taste for the very poisonous people, don't we?

    Made a decision to not be concerned with the ladies and what passes for gentlemen till at least beginning of March. Fuck trying to look for love when you're still hurt from the last three ones and in dire need of sorting your own shit out anyways.

    anyhooo. got off the weed, the booze, the cigarettes, the wanking, again. brains still on fog mode. will be for a while, but I have done this stuff before.

    once or twice, y'know.

    stuff stays the same. trick is keeping an eye out for the little details so you don't get stuck too hard.
    started painting my nails, black, for some reason. look less straight, which I kinda appreciate, gives ppl a fair warning of sorts.
    not that people would care much around these parts.

    and there's something about the ordeal of having to redo the paint job every few days that is both annoying and nice.
    you have to remake yourself, over and over. shit starts chipping off, you tear it down, redo it.

    so guys. I'm still trying to quit the shit (at times) I am at day something something and the only thing thats new is my being philosphical about bloody nailpolish. grand.

    how have you been?


    I'm of course being blasé about trying to quit for entertainment purposes only. I do take this stuff seriously, even if I have a hard time being straight about it.
  4. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Further into the mists. They part, surprisingly easy at times.

    Sort of having a good going of it. Initial week of nicotine withdrawal rage has come and gone.
    Something has changed, in my perspectives. Less, well, what? Hesitation? Feeling I can go back?

    Because I cannot, won't go back. Don't wanna, lemme sail, lemme sail.

    Learned for the first time about (a) definition of cptsd. Had that "Fucking hell, that is the first, absolutely the first
    time any of my shit makes any sense." feeling.

    Accept no substitute. Sixteen years travelling through the uncharted territories (here be dragons, they be mad) and cutting through the layer cake of my questionable sanity.

    It's not the end of it, it never is. But each layer I dig through, bit more dignity, bit more range, bit more agency. Better angle, better plan for attack. Use whats at hand.

    To war, my children! :3
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  5. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    woah, woah, woah.

    seen the other side of this shit, the darkness, the sadness, found it, finally found, look at it, let it go, will take forever, gruelling, like giving an abortion to cancer in a torrent of slow cold blood, like, ah-

    wrong words, I know, I know, only way to describe. only way to show. horrible, yes. but. finally. found it. keep at it, unrelenting.

    do what you want, then pay the price, as Moiraine says.

    woah. breathe. keep going.
    Pete McVries likes this.
  6. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    so. reorganizing all of that shit.

    been porn free for some like three weeks or so now. no smoking since two (smoking withdrawal is a relatively quick thing, at least for me, although there is like mood debuffs for roughly a month.

    in the time I have stayed away from porn I have masturbated twice. I hated it both times, during and after and it fucked my day up hard. I am a bit afraid I might have that fun thing where your system is
    fucked after orgasm (ok, wording is bad, sorry) but you know what? I am not sposed to have any action for the forseeable future, so maybe I can just let that one sit there and have a look at it once I get back to having anything like sex.

    fun thing is: I don't miss it. none a it. not the porn, not the wankin, not the smoking, not being drunk, not being stoned, positively none of it. I mean, this shit is changin all of the time and there is sort of a curse when you go like

    I don't miss X.

    And the algorythm of yer brain goes like: here's the craving for x you ordereeeeed! (okay, that sounds like law of attraction shit which I am not comfortable even considering. not to hate, but me and them spiritual people, ah, so icky.)

    anyhow. back to the cptsd stuff I mentioned (what an acronym, gods dammnit. if I wasn't lgbtqa+ etc pp. I'd be scared offa it just by its lenght) some days ago.

    what I have learned so far describes my issue with taking care of certain things in my life.

    invoices, deadlines, applying somewhere, making big plans, being decisive. all that good shit. I think yer getting what I mean (or you are a blessed soul, in that case: are you lost, brother? what do you do here? hush, go fund a startup somewhere:3)

    That stuff, while uncomfortable for most folk (apart from the guys with the bureacratic kink mb), hits way different for me. like full on panic mode, lack of concentration, no cohesion mental, amigo, the shakes, feeling phyiscally ill.

    ye, I'm a special boi. well, I ain't, cause it seems that is a symptom of the long c word. and thats like normal for ppl with that stuff.

    thats normal. for people. to be like that.

    I cannot say how much I get them feels. Why I always fuck up, always get in trouble, why I cannot seem to get a grip on shite, that was always my anti-USP, my personal failure and dööm, the thing where I asked meself:

    "meself, why doest thou be so fucketh?"

    aaaaaaaaah. aaaaaah. aaaaaah.

    and now there's like a thing where that is just normal and not my very private doom. hooo boiiiiii.

    That shit is the reason I use. That shit is the reason I use. That shit is the reason I use.

    -.- I have to go write that on my wall like an ultra milque toast professor in a well intentioned feature film about mental illness and math for a thousand times now.

    Might help driving it home.

    And yeah, I too have the feeling: Isn't this like a magical thinking? Like that show we used to perform in a few some years back. no brother, it ain't. I could prolly
    go all eloquent arse on it, but I have thought long and hard about this. it makes sense.

    There was always some shit within me I had no words for, I couldn't spot, under a heavy cloaking field. and now poof.

    here. have some terminology. here, have a legit medical approach as to why and how, and most important (cause who the fuck in their irght mind cares WHY they are how they are more than how to get out)

    how to get out.

    Apparently its about a lot of writing (which DUH, I wasn't alive if I hadn't gotten the hang of journalling I just underestimated hwo I still might need it, so easy) and meditation and here I am kind of fucked, honestly.

    cause I am a bitch low key allergic to spiritual stuff (I do like yoga though, that shit just works) and I have been trying all week and I still feel I am shit at it.

    But hey. No matter the price, I'm gonna pay it. I want out. I want nothing but out of this shit.

    And if I have to be sober for life, fuck it, sold. Don't care.

    Woah, ranty today, aren't we.
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  7. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Ho, today is hard. Have that bleak mood of "nothing ever will fill dis voiiiiiid" (edgy, I know) and urges to MO.

    Just a little, says brain.

    Shut up, brain, says I.

    Pleassssssse, says brain.



    Halt die Fresse, brain, you're no longer 12.

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  8. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Mh. Fucking weekends man. MO'd twice. Routine coming apart.

    Made it to work. So much anxiety and pain. No discernible reason, I woke up this way. Just feel it, then pass on.

    Wash over me. Guess most of February will be like this. What do I know. I can't see far, at the moment. Only thing to do is acknowledge what it is, appreciate that it's sort of a sign of success that I digging forward to my traumata thru addiction, and then nothing more. Don't dwell. Keep drifting, heart.

    And trust the winds to guide, wherever.
    Pete McVries likes this.
  9. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    The damage on us in the abstract, as an idea, is one thing.

    Looking at it while sober (and with some sort of withdrawal mood debuff, I reckon), is another.

    Feel like my, well, damages are so

    Numerous? Omnipräsent? So simple, after all? So much?

    Clarity of perception is a fucking gift, I know. Doesn't mean it don't hurt.

    Then again, how would a soul know whether or not what they perceive is le truth ultimatique or some crazed rage? Give up on that, keep paddling.

    This is not the end, so move it along, dear.
    Pete McVries likes this.
  10. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Mh. Struggling with masturbation, occasional bad ideas about porn, watched about ten seconds yesterday and went ye, naaaaaw and noped out of there.

    Was at a party last weekend. About 15 people, but it felt like an orgy. I thought we'd be like five. Felt so good, so wrong. Got hangover from other ppl smoking.

    Still sober, and I do like it. Trying to eat better, my body is bit wtf mate? Trying to journal and meditate and that kinda shit, brain seems a bit less fucky, but it's still hard getting to any kind of routine.

    Think I have to kick my youtube netflix you know what I'm talking about. My attention spans in the shitter, to put it delicately.

    I mean there's progress, sorta?
    Thelongwayhome27 likes this.
  11. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Huh. Normally, my bad habits gang up on me.

    Slowly I feel my better habits are reinforcing each other.

    Fly, fly, my pretties, fly and destroy them all!

    Aren't we wholesome today?

    Second day of no MO.
    Thelongwayhome27 likes this.
  12. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Mh. Third day no masturbation. No urges. Lots of activity. Work, yoga, walking, doing household stuff. Meeting friends. Eating less, have gained a bit of weight since I quit smoking.

    I feel changed, a lot. I wake up, and more often than not get out of bed shortly after. More there. More bäm! in the brain thing.

    It is a lot of work. But it works. Shapeshifting, dear. And the wheel I was bound to

    Gone gone gone.

    There are no words. 'Met god, cannot explain' kinda deal. Hits different.

    And at the same time it's all mundane, incremental and non-incremental changes. Four years, man.

    What I came here for was my dick not working. I mean, it's gotten better. But that's almost no longer the point. I used to be so stuck on sex. And now it's different.

    Can't even say what happened when. I guess it never really was about sex, whatever that might be. It was about getting away, avoiding, running.

    Drifting in the void, man. Anything but living, as if something mean and powerful had told me "don't do this".

    Not done. Done when dead. But no longer undone by this. Reshaping, taking form, walking this earth. As an awake and self respecting person. Still the same ...idiosyncratic humor tho. Dunnow.

    What more to ask for? What more to be?
  13. Thelongwayhome27

    Thelongwayhome27 Well-Known Member

    Sounds good man, I hope you keep going !

    Yeah it can feel mundane sometimes, but that's cause we forget just how shitty ''down there'' is.

    We soon remember once we're down there again, and it takes a long time to get out of that swamp.

    Investing in the healthy self is where it's at ;)
    NewStart19 and Pete McVries like this.
  14. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Woaaaaaaah, fucking MO is kicking my ass every bloody blighted morning this week.

    Porn, Cigarettes and fucked up exes are staying out of sight tho. Das nice.

    Trying to get out of bed as soon as I get wake up tomorrow, which can be laughably early. Was auch immer es kosten mag.

    Funny thing: increased amount of people around me are going nuts I feel. Winter, corona, what have you. End up being the supportive guy more often than I'm comfortable with.

    But I do realize, us folk have a perk in times of crisis: it's, for better or worse, our normal, we're sorta used to it.

    Or am I wrong about this?
  15. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Fuck's sake but I still have to wrap my head around how fucking bad MO makes me feel. Haven't so much as looked at sexy pics or anything, but MO over the cause of four days and I am gone from pretty stable mood to bleak to suicidal thoughts.

    Bloody ashes. Das a lot of damage, though. I mean, I am under no illusions regarding the compromised state of my fucking trial version of sanity, but boy thats a lot.

    And now for some bloody yoga before I swear way too much. Alter Falter, die ganzen Emotionen, das macht was mit mir. Oo
  16. Rudolf Geyse

    Rudolf Geyse Well-Known Member

    Keep up the fight, cos it's a good one, drdv. To go by your posts, yes, there is progress.
  17. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Yep, Rudolf, you're right, of course.

    Made an observation: When I did smoke and watch porn, I kind of hated tobacco and porn.

    Now that my addiction is mostly expressed via MO, I kind of hate my own body. Hate is a strong word.

    Resent? Ya, let's go with resent. My issue are the mornings. I wake up with morning wood and if I don't get out of bed right away, it's a losing battle most often.

    I'll set the timer to seven in the morning and just go for a walk. See what happens. Endless experimentation and all that.

    Generally speaking, as long as I keep moving, I tend to be okay.
    The moment I hesitate, ruminate, chill for too fucking long in bed, destruction awaits.

    Wer ewig strebend sich bemüht, den können wir erretten, as Goethe wrote in his very short novel Faust.

    Roughly translates to: We can bring to salvation those, who tirelessly seek betterment. Some like that.

    Rearrange, rinse, repeat. Y otra vez.
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  18. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Went for a walk yesterday, today. two days free. cool, more, pls.
  19. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    Spring (or its forerunner) is in town, and people are hitting the streets and parks of Berlin like it is no ones business. It feels weirdly, overwhelmingly intimate to see so many, so different faces in short succession. Like an avalanche of inpressions, and it's both refreshing and too much. It's coming back to something I was so very used to and now am not.

    Same goes for how I feel. All the other withdrawal stuff notwithstanding, not masturbating, even for three days (is it three? Who is counting?) and my emotions run wild. I might feel like crying while at work. I might actually cry at an emotional song. I feel weird, and I say that as someone pretty accustomed to feeling out of it. And then there's moment when I feel more myself than I used to think possible.

    I have been at this point many times. When it feels like everything is in motion, friction, resistance, an unease, a lack of coherence and awareness, yet being aware that it won't be long now if I just hold on to it and keep going.

    I feel like a big animal with some powerful but eventually passing sickness, that withdraws to a hiding spot, maybe under a big tree, or in a ditch, or under bushes over the edge of a silent, undisturbed pond. Just laying low and letting it pass, expecting nothing, just watching, waiting, listening.

    Why is not taking drugs, not using stuff so often the most outlandish trip? I don't get it.
  20. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Well-Known Member

    EN Below.

    Some things cannot be done, thought, said in secondary languages. Sorry.

    Ahahahahaha. Dafür gibt es keine entsprechenden Worte. Das kann man ganz schwer fassen, ein sublimes Gefühl. Als schaute ich die hohe Säule vieler Jahre hinab, auf eine Zeit, in der ich mich zuletzt mir eigentlich fühlte, bevor ich zwanzig war, oder so. Und soviele Dinge seitdem waren so ein Blödsinn, so ein verirrtes Herumgelebe, ohne ein Gefühl für mich selbst, ohne *mein* Gefühl für mich selbst. Ich denke an alle Leute, die ich jemals gedatet habe, keiner von denen hat mich wirklich zu sehen bekommen. Und: Ist das nicht die beste Rache?

    Wie lang ich so war. Wie egal das alles ist. Ich komme langsam wieder, zum ersten Mal nach so langer Zeit. Ich kann nicht in Worte kleiden, was ich meine, ich kann nur beteuern, das etwas anders ist, dass es allen Unterschied macht, dass ich mir eigentlicher bin, als ichs in anderthalb Jahrzehnten war.

    Und: Alles abhängige, depressive, fahle Herumgekrebse seitdem. Was für ein grandioser Irrtum. Was für ein Blödsinn. Fall ab von meines Geistes Ländereien, fahr zur Hölle, in die Niederhöllen mit euch, ihr meine dunklen Dinge.

    Je tiefer ich vorstosse, desto mehr verwundert mich, wie ich in den letzten Jahren gelebt habe, auf welch hirnrissige Dinge ich meine Zeit verwendet habe. Wozu der ganze eitle Online-Scheiss, all der Konsum von Dingen hinter, auf Schirmen?

    Als hätten wir das nötig, Jungs.


    Ahahahahaha. There are no words, really. A sublime feeling, nigh on impossible to express with clarity. As if I was looking down from atop a high pillar, looking both down and back, onto a time in my life where I felt more like myself, more in tune with my person. Around the time I turned twenty, roughly. So many things I did since then were nothing but confused wandering, such folly, without feeling in touch with myself. Thinking back to all the people I ever dated, none of them ever really met me - which might be quite the befitting revenge.

    How long I stayed like that - and how little it matters. For the first time in a long time, I am back.

    I cannot put to words what I am trying to get at, the only thing I can ask you to believe is that it makes all the difference.

    I haven't been myself in a decade and a half.

    All of that depressed, bleak, dependant crawling in the dark I have done since then. What grandiose mistake, what lunacy.

    Oh my dark things, take yourselves far away from my minds and hearts domain, take yourselves to hells deepest, bleakest pits.

    The more I press onwards, the more I am puzzled - on what insane undertakings I have spent my time, how I have lived these past years of my life.

    Why all this vain online shite? Why using screen, as a drug, as a crutch?

    As if any of us had any reason to do that, my fellow travellers.
    Last edited: Feb 28, 2021
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