If you know anything about me, I love music. It is part of my life. I could not live without it. My radio is never off, I have 1000s of cd's. Days and days of music in my computer.
I listen to my computer through Skullcandy Hesh II headphones because it was what I could afford. It isn't bad at all, I am content with them.
I had a very dark moment, felt tears but a song played and this song helps so much. I found it on a compilation album in Amazon's digital music thingy.
When it played, I thought, I am here, maybe for a reason. After nearly four decades of life, I have not found it yet.
My interests are varied but heavy in science and history.
I don't know if you would like it but you can hear the song here Let It Be
Don't worry about me. I will be okay. I will get back to normal when I am not hungry and feeling this way.
Showing posts with label mental health (bad). Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental health (bad). Show all posts
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Saturday, August 23, 2014
About Childlessness
I do not have children. I have only had sex with two different females and neither were fit, one was way older than me, the other was early 20's, not a time for such consequences.
I never intended to be childless. I always thought, maybe, I could have one, just one. But I developed prostatitis and sex is so hard for me.
That is not the reason I cannot go find a female willing to mate with me.
It is my anxiety. In full panic mode, I cannot even be ready for the occasion. Besides that, I am aware of the consequences. I don't have the money or structure to raise a child.
I don't think I could deal with the stress. I know I can't because kids get on my nerves as it is.
I don't know. Theoretically, through my 40s, assuming my prostate doesn't implode, I can find a female willing to mate with me.
Funny way to put it but I don't think it will ever happen. The same loneliness that anxiety causes also makes me childless.
My child more than likely would have blue eyes and red hair. Traits I had when I was a kid. Would they have anxiety problems too? Is this genetic?
I ask this because a 1st cousin of mine has the same problems I do. I wish I could be like her and get help. She knows where to get it, I do not.
I never intended to be childless. I always thought, maybe, I could have one, just one. But I developed prostatitis and sex is so hard for me.
That is not the reason I cannot go find a female willing to mate with me.
It is my anxiety. In full panic mode, I cannot even be ready for the occasion. Besides that, I am aware of the consequences. I don't have the money or structure to raise a child.
I don't think I could deal with the stress. I know I can't because kids get on my nerves as it is.
I don't know. Theoretically, through my 40s, assuming my prostate doesn't implode, I can find a female willing to mate with me.
Funny way to put it but I don't think it will ever happen. The same loneliness that anxiety causes also makes me childless.
My child more than likely would have blue eyes and red hair. Traits I had when I was a kid. Would they have anxiety problems too? Is this genetic?
I ask this because a 1st cousin of mine has the same problems I do. I wish I could be like her and get help. She knows where to get it, I do not.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Admission
Why the guilt, the stress, the unhappiness? I admit that I have a suicidal feeling. I am trying hard to resist it. Deactivating my facebook account was part of this.
I am not some teenage girl bullied to the point of hanging myself. That is reprehensible and senseless.
I feel a deeper pain than they do. I am 38 years old, disabled by my anxiety disorder.
I can't go outside, it won't let me. I can't go see friends or meet a new girlfriend because it won't let me.
Not that any woman would have anything to do with me. My life is designed not to be exciting. Been alone here too long.
I feel ugly. I feel sick inside because of this. I don't know how to say what it feels like.
It is a cage, a shield, feathers, all encompassing. Strangling my soul.
I cannot put into words how anxiety disorder feels. You can't understand unless you have it. I share this condition with many others and we all feel the same.
I will try to be calm, try not to hurt myself. I mean, I don't like being hurt. Who does? My hurt is mental and it is a traumatic hurt.
Oh, and the prostate thing, I am having trouble peeing. I could go into detail but do ya really want to know?
That bothers me, too.
There were thunderstorms today. I have said before, thunderstorms stroke my anxiety. Today was no exception. Woke up too early and could not go back to sleep. Can't do anything about the weather.
The power failed here for like 10 seconds. That may not seem like a big deal but my computer was on and a story I was writing was on. Thank goodness for timed backup.
I wish I could go out and do things but it is just not possible with this anxiety strangle.
Sorry if this bothers you. It is how I feel.
I am not some teenage girl bullied to the point of hanging myself. That is reprehensible and senseless.
I feel a deeper pain than they do. I am 38 years old, disabled by my anxiety disorder.
I can't go outside, it won't let me. I can't go see friends or meet a new girlfriend because it won't let me.
Not that any woman would have anything to do with me. My life is designed not to be exciting. Been alone here too long.
I feel ugly. I feel sick inside because of this. I don't know how to say what it feels like.
It is a cage, a shield, feathers, all encompassing. Strangling my soul.
I cannot put into words how anxiety disorder feels. You can't understand unless you have it. I share this condition with many others and we all feel the same.
I will try to be calm, try not to hurt myself. I mean, I don't like being hurt. Who does? My hurt is mental and it is a traumatic hurt.
Oh, and the prostate thing, I am having trouble peeing. I could go into detail but do ya really want to know?
That bothers me, too.
There were thunderstorms today. I have said before, thunderstorms stroke my anxiety. Today was no exception. Woke up too early and could not go back to sleep. Can't do anything about the weather.
The power failed here for like 10 seconds. That may not seem like a big deal but my computer was on and a story I was writing was on. Thank goodness for timed backup.
I wish I could go out and do things but it is just not possible with this anxiety strangle.
Sorry if this bothers you. It is how I feel.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Addiction
Do you have an addiction? To what? I hope it isn't drugs or alcohol, both poisons. What of chocolate? Does it make you gain weight? Or the pervasive addiction to caffeine?
I do not have addictions like this. I am addicted to sugar, have a powerful sweet tooth. It isn't good but I can't live without it.
I am addicted to porn. This happened largely because of my ex-gf who was as cold as a spring day on Eris.
I am not addicted to anything else. I see intoxicants as just that, toxic, poison. I don't even like taking medicine but will if I have to.
I knew people who were addicted to methamphetamines. What an awful thing to be addicted to. It destroyed them and rightly so. That poison is wholly avoidable.
I am not addicted to anything bad, I guess. I do think I could be sick because of the porn thing but that is mental sickness and I am mentally sick as it is.
I am not going to make it worse with poisons.
I do not have addictions like this. I am addicted to sugar, have a powerful sweet tooth. It isn't good but I can't live without it.
I am addicted to porn. This happened largely because of my ex-gf who was as cold as a spring day on Eris.
I am not addicted to anything else. I see intoxicants as just that, toxic, poison. I don't even like taking medicine but will if I have to.
I knew people who were addicted to methamphetamines. What an awful thing to be addicted to. It destroyed them and rightly so. That poison is wholly avoidable.
I am not addicted to anything bad, I guess. I do think I could be sick because of the porn thing but that is mental sickness and I am mentally sick as it is.
I am not going to make it worse with poisons.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Difficult Thought
I have suicidal thoughts sometimes. I hate my genitals and have a perverse desire to have them removed. I do not know how deep into mental illness I will sink before help or killing myself solves the problem.
What is wrong?
Aside from posting a picture of my peena, which I will do if anyone asks, I can only describe my genitals as average but 'cute' as some have said. Why do I hate them? Normally, a guy isn't conscious of his. I am conscious of mine because of the nebulous pain I feel in my pelvic area because of chronic prostatitis. This intensifies when I pee or have the ever unpleasant cycle of constipation and dia-icky.
I hate being stimulated. This happens with touch or maybe some things I see. It is not as easy as it was when I was younger but gosh, I subscribe to Penthouse. Some of the girls.... not all of them, mind you, but some fit my ideal idea of feminine beauty.
I get stimulated when writing, as a sex scene comes up. I write like a soap opera is written, things happen.
This doesn't happen so much as I have been hurting more than usual lately. This is why I am wary of exercising, bending, stretching, that will hurt my prostate.
I hate the damned thing. I hate it all. If I am able to have the whole thing removed and can afford it. I will.
Would my mind change? Probably not. My mind is reactive. Self-image isn't what it should be.
What about other things?
Like other people. Other people don't give a fuck about me. This is true of others I know. Other people are like a great mass of naked apes that infest the earth. Wait... am I not one as well? Yes, but I am not out among the masses, that would definitely ruffle my anxiety feathers.
The last time I got my hair cut, the hair cutter said not one word to me. What kind of social behavior is that? It doesn't matter, I don't care. What I do care about is being considered.
Anxiety, I have social anxiety disorder. It is like a coiled snake when I am doing this here, sitting, typing on my laptop. But should somebody bother me, it strikes and I get upset. I mean fucking upset, I feel great discord. Like the water when a large rock is thrown into it.
The water is unstable and writhing as it is.
I write about this because it is how I feel. This cycle of self-hate, shame, and the hurt caused by other people spin like a washing machine's spin cycle. My soul is like what is stuck to the side of the drum like clothes are after the spin cycle.
Whatever analogy I use doesn't do the pain justice. It gets worse as I get older. A crisis point has to happen and what will happen when it does? I would go hang myself and end this pain.
Would you care if I did? Would you care that there was one less guy in the world. Everybody wants more girls. Fuck guys. I feel the same misandry they do.
I am mentally sick. Just read my blog from the beginning and see how it has gotten worse.
What did SS do? Throw money and medicare at the problem. I have no list of doctors appropriate to treat this anxiety disorder. My regular doctor only prescribes medicines that erode self-control and makes it harder to go to the bathroom.
Is medicine the answer? I do not know. There is a lot I don't know because I am here in my shell. If you see me at the store or whatever, feel lucky, there are very few times that I go out, like once a month.
How is this healthy behavior?
I wish I was really a ghost. They don't have feelings.
What is wrong?
Aside from posting a picture of my peena, which I will do if anyone asks, I can only describe my genitals as average but 'cute' as some have said. Why do I hate them? Normally, a guy isn't conscious of his. I am conscious of mine because of the nebulous pain I feel in my pelvic area because of chronic prostatitis. This intensifies when I pee or have the ever unpleasant cycle of constipation and dia-icky.
I hate being stimulated. This happens with touch or maybe some things I see. It is not as easy as it was when I was younger but gosh, I subscribe to Penthouse. Some of the girls.... not all of them, mind you, but some fit my ideal idea of feminine beauty.
I get stimulated when writing, as a sex scene comes up. I write like a soap opera is written, things happen.
This doesn't happen so much as I have been hurting more than usual lately. This is why I am wary of exercising, bending, stretching, that will hurt my prostate.
I hate the damned thing. I hate it all. If I am able to have the whole thing removed and can afford it. I will.
Would my mind change? Probably not. My mind is reactive. Self-image isn't what it should be.
What about other things?
Like other people. Other people don't give a fuck about me. This is true of others I know. Other people are like a great mass of naked apes that infest the earth. Wait... am I not one as well? Yes, but I am not out among the masses, that would definitely ruffle my anxiety feathers.
The last time I got my hair cut, the hair cutter said not one word to me. What kind of social behavior is that? It doesn't matter, I don't care. What I do care about is being considered.
Anxiety, I have social anxiety disorder. It is like a coiled snake when I am doing this here, sitting, typing on my laptop. But should somebody bother me, it strikes and I get upset. I mean fucking upset, I feel great discord. Like the water when a large rock is thrown into it.
The water is unstable and writhing as it is.
I write about this because it is how I feel. This cycle of self-hate, shame, and the hurt caused by other people spin like a washing machine's spin cycle. My soul is like what is stuck to the side of the drum like clothes are after the spin cycle.
Whatever analogy I use doesn't do the pain justice. It gets worse as I get older. A crisis point has to happen and what will happen when it does? I would go hang myself and end this pain.
Would you care if I did? Would you care that there was one less guy in the world. Everybody wants more girls. Fuck guys. I feel the same misandry they do.
I am mentally sick. Just read my blog from the beginning and see how it has gotten worse.
What did SS do? Throw money and medicare at the problem. I have no list of doctors appropriate to treat this anxiety disorder. My regular doctor only prescribes medicines that erode self-control and makes it harder to go to the bathroom.
Is medicine the answer? I do not know. There is a lot I don't know because I am here in my shell. If you see me at the store or whatever, feel lucky, there are very few times that I go out, like once a month.
How is this healthy behavior?
I wish I was really a ghost. They don't have feelings.
Monday, April 18, 2011
I'm Still Here
It's been a while since I've posted. I have had no net access. I have this rare chance to post so I am taking it.
Things have been sad. I have never been hungry in my life and yet over the last six months, I have had far less to eat than normal. This is because there is no money here. I have no job and I can't trust that my Anxiety Disorder won't act up if I go for a new job. I need to talk with the doctor but cost is the issue.
I check messages on a cell phone that isn't mine. Mine is a prepay Go Phone but I have no minutes. I have had a Go Phone since the year 2000, but like 3 different phones from it. I now have an LG smart phone. It is great but took some getting used to. I have a love-hate relationship with AT&T.
My prostatic pain has intensified. I hurt badly when I pee, and even worse when I do the other. This is because the colon/rectum is literally right next to the prostate gland in a male. Again, I can't go to the urology doctor, the cost, and I have no car to get to Temple, which is some distance away from the rural wasteland. I don't like driving that far. I sort of sit on the prostate in a soft seat like a car seat. Lord forbid if I have to pee and have to hold it. The more I hold, the worse it hurts getting it out. It is reminiscent of the first time I had to pee after the uro-scope, that fiber-optic medical tool put through my peeny and into my bladder. Did it hurt? Yes, but a nurse injected a sedative in my peeny and I did not feel it until it was well into my urinary tract. Even then, 2 years after the fact, I cringe when I remember that pain. The pain is similar to what I feel now when I pee.
Why am I mentioning this? This is what I deal with on a daily basis. I am uncomfortable in jeans now. I wear sweatpants most of the time, which I used to never do.
I have not felt suicidal thankfully. I am writing more now and have written a dozen stories since I last posted here.
I am fed up with my FB friends. Simple minded twits. Mind that all but 2 of them were my classmates from our hometown. I am on Spore, ( arthelius-ghost ) and little else anymore.
I take Celexa still. I wonder if I could live without it. I doubt that. I still have panic attacks in certain situations. I do not leave the house normally. When I go outside, I am not bothered. I have lived here for 12 years. When I go somewhere, it is usually to familiar places. Even then, I am uncomfortable in a walmart, which was where my mental illness began.
I have not set foot in wm 407 since April 26th of 2010 and ain't likely to even after the end of time.
I hope to go to a wm closer to my house, like in my hometown.
I am still here, don't worry about me. I will post more as opportunity allows.
Things have been sad. I have never been hungry in my life and yet over the last six months, I have had far less to eat than normal. This is because there is no money here. I have no job and I can't trust that my Anxiety Disorder won't act up if I go for a new job. I need to talk with the doctor but cost is the issue.
I check messages on a cell phone that isn't mine. Mine is a prepay Go Phone but I have no minutes. I have had a Go Phone since the year 2000, but like 3 different phones from it. I now have an LG smart phone. It is great but took some getting used to. I have a love-hate relationship with AT&T.
My prostatic pain has intensified. I hurt badly when I pee, and even worse when I do the other. This is because the colon/rectum is literally right next to the prostate gland in a male. Again, I can't go to the urology doctor, the cost, and I have no car to get to Temple, which is some distance away from the rural wasteland. I don't like driving that far. I sort of sit on the prostate in a soft seat like a car seat. Lord forbid if I have to pee and have to hold it. The more I hold, the worse it hurts getting it out. It is reminiscent of the first time I had to pee after the uro-scope, that fiber-optic medical tool put through my peeny and into my bladder. Did it hurt? Yes, but a nurse injected a sedative in my peeny and I did not feel it until it was well into my urinary tract. Even then, 2 years after the fact, I cringe when I remember that pain. The pain is similar to what I feel now when I pee.
Why am I mentioning this? This is what I deal with on a daily basis. I am uncomfortable in jeans now. I wear sweatpants most of the time, which I used to never do.
I have not felt suicidal thankfully. I am writing more now and have written a dozen stories since I last posted here.
I am fed up with my FB friends. Simple minded twits. Mind that all but 2 of them were my classmates from our hometown. I am on Spore, ( arthelius-ghost ) and little else anymore.
I take Celexa still. I wonder if I could live without it. I doubt that. I still have panic attacks in certain situations. I do not leave the house normally. When I go outside, I am not bothered. I have lived here for 12 years. When I go somewhere, it is usually to familiar places. Even then, I am uncomfortable in a walmart, which was where my mental illness began.
I have not set foot in wm 407 since April 26th of 2010 and ain't likely to even after the end of time.
I hope to go to a wm closer to my house, like in my hometown.
I am still here, don't worry about me. I will post more as opportunity allows.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Wrongness
I don't know how to describe my feelings. I am a writer, yes, and descrition is not hard for me but describing a deep sadness that comes from despair is hard. It is the oscillating my feelings do.
I am in the suicidally risky part of the down feeling I get. It comes from among other things, the seeming hopeless effort to cure my pelvic pain. What will the MRI say? Nothing? Inconclusive? Why shouldn't I just give up?
Arthelius has nothing to say.
I am in the suicidally risky part of the down feeling I get. It comes from among other things, the seeming hopeless effort to cure my pelvic pain. What will the MRI say? Nothing? Inconclusive? Why shouldn't I just give up?
Arthelius has nothing to say.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Mentally Ill?
My stupid urinary system and its mysterious issue have just angered me to the point where I scald my stupid peeny in hot water. There is something wrong with the hot/cold water in my house. The cold cuts out suddenly as some other draw on the water takes it away momentarily. This is not good when one takes a hot shower like I do. I step away as the water gets really hot and maybe my urinary area hurts, a spike in pain brought on by ???
I get very upset and stick my peeny in the hot water. Not for very long. I mean, why make it hurt more than it already does?
The way I am reacting to this unknown urinary condition bothers me greatly. I walk around naked or in my underwear, something I never usually do.
I am a ghost in the online world. I wish I had some of Arthelius' traits, like spectrally hiding his maleness. I am not ashamed of my peeny, no way, I'm just angry that it hurts deep inside.
My anxiety twists this situation into something that hurts not only physically but emotionally as I am not getting the attention from doctors who in reality do not care.
I am awaiting the day Jen finally lets me in. I am afraid this problem will spoil that. No one cares so why should I even attempt to get help?
I am Arthelius the Ghost, I will get through this somehow. Likely with meds that make me feel icky. Doctors poking at my genitals... ew! Why cant the doctor be female? I hate male attention at all.
It's all so sad.
I get very upset and stick my peeny in the hot water. Not for very long. I mean, why make it hurt more than it already does?
The way I am reacting to this unknown urinary condition bothers me greatly. I walk around naked or in my underwear, something I never usually do.
I am a ghost in the online world. I wish I had some of Arthelius' traits, like spectrally hiding his maleness. I am not ashamed of my peeny, no way, I'm just angry that it hurts deep inside.
My anxiety twists this situation into something that hurts not only physically but emotionally as I am not getting the attention from doctors who in reality do not care.
I am awaiting the day Jen finally lets me in. I am afraid this problem will spoil that. No one cares so why should I even attempt to get help?
I am Arthelius the Ghost, I will get through this somehow. Likely with meds that make me feel icky. Doctors poking at my genitals... ew! Why cant the doctor be female? I hate male attention at all.
It's all so sad.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Not Good
I hate to say I didn't like it. I want to give it a chance but my experience today showed me, it was a mistake.
No 1. I dont know what the hell is going on and like people don't know either.
No. 2. I am dealing with plants I may be allergic to. I am picking up paving stones, tearing up hands that have enough problems on their own.
No. 3, I miss my friends already. They are why I stayed there.
I will talk to the she-demon about this but she will likely say to me, stow it. Like she cares.
I will leave that cesspit now. I have decided, it is in mental, emotional, and finacial interests that I should move to a wm closer to home.
Also, I am convinced that I am becoming more mentally ill. I need to see a psychologist or counselor.
Hopefully I can find a better way to deal with this ever deepening gulf of depression-anxiety than just the Celexa-clone. If not, I'd rather be committed as mentally ill.
No 1. I dont know what the hell is going on and like people don't know either.
No. 2. I am dealing with plants I may be allergic to. I am picking up paving stones, tearing up hands that have enough problems on their own.
No. 3, I miss my friends already. They are why I stayed there.
I will talk to the she-demon about this but she will likely say to me, stow it. Like she cares.
I will leave that cesspit now. I have decided, it is in mental, emotional, and finacial interests that I should move to a wm closer to home.
Also, I am convinced that I am becoming more mentally ill. I need to see a psychologist or counselor.
Hopefully I can find a better way to deal with this ever deepening gulf of depression-anxiety than just the Celexa-clone. If not, I'd rather be committed as mentally ill.