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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
For me, I believe the cause of my DP/DR, Depression, Anxiety etc is a general hatred for the world and the way it works. It's cliche but when I was young I had so many dreams, and I really believed the world was good. Now I feel like it was all lies... some major things that bother me:

1. Drugs and Alcohol- the fact that i'm slowly finding out that the majority of the world uses these two things. It's scary for me that there isn't true happiness in the world and that people are so bored that they use them in order to have fun. Unless you like the taste of alcohol and drink because of that, never to get drunk... then you are either escaping your problems, or have nothing better to do. How can the world be this consumed with boredom? The "fun" people have on these substances isn't even REAL! This one honestly crushes me... i'd have to say it affects me on a daily basis.

2.General Fakeness of People- Life is a popularity contest. Whether it be teenagers in high school, or people fighting for power in some company. People do what they can to get themselves ahead, they don't generally care about many other people. It's so easy for someone to just pretend they are your best friend, and it be a complete lie. On top of this, people act certain ways so people will like them.. no one is really themselves. No one says what they are really thinking, they say what is considered appropriate by our society.

3. The Lies- The fact that life is about going to high school so one can go to university so one can get a job and find money and happiness. This is completely unrealistic for the majority of society. I have worked my ass off to get to university and now I see it's utterly pointless. First of all, a University degree will land the majority of people NO WHERE, it's all just bullshit, and second of all... do I really want to work away four years at university so I can then work away two more at graduate school so i can then work 30 years of my life in a dead-end job so when im SIXTY and on my death bed i'll have money and "be happy".

We are fed "just get good marks in school and everything will be okay" our whole lives.. it doesn't work that way. Happiness is next to impossible in a capitalist society. Not to say that people don't find ways to be happy (heyy there's drugs and alcohol again... manufactured happiness... happiness in a bottle or a joint). But our society pushes happiness out of people.

No f--- wonder people end up with depression and anxiety and DP/DR.. we are born and fed delusions for our entire life.. and the majority of people who end up with depression are the ones that finally see through that into what this world is.

The worst part is, for most people the only cure is to go back to believing that.. to work their 9-5 monday to friday jobs and force themselves to be happy.. break open a bottle and get themselves as happy as possible as quick as possible on friday and saturdya nights.

I wish I could get away from this world.. I am always tempted to just pack a suitcase and leave.. go places i've never been .. enjoy life.. but when I say it to myself it feels every bit as delusional as this life here.. I can't really survive that way.... I really wish I could. Well now you've heard my rant on society... enjoy.
Matt, I stole this post of yours from another thread (the one on "What Makes You Unhappy?") because it's a great example of something, and I wanted to use it here to make a point. HOPE you don't mind (I feel like you and I know each other well enough that you'll be okay with this, and hopefully even find it helpful yourself).

The points you make in your post are very well-articulated and make perfect sense. However, they make just so much "intellectual" sense that they make me suspicious, lol....

I believe you totally, I believe you sincerely think that what you describe is what really bothers you. BUT....what you're leaving out is the personal quality. There are all kinds of horrible "truths" about human nature that you could pick on to hate - you've chosen this particular set of truths, not because they are MORE true than others, but because they mean something to YOU personally.

The anger you feel, not at People in General who are like you describe, but at people in PARTICULAR (and at yourself) - that's where some of your symptoms are based.

You've got yourself stuck in rage - so relentlessly humiliated and infuriated that you "didn't see this sooner" or that you "fell for it" or that you WISH you could go back to a time of naivetee....it's you who you're hating, I suspect. Hating yourself for what you found out, hating yourself for knowing, for seeing more than you wanted to know.

You've probably also got rage at someone who lied to you, who painted you a lovely picture of a pretty little world, who misled you for their own reasons, who lured you in, seduced you with what you wanted to hear....and then did NOTHING to prepare you for eventual disappointment. But mostly I bet you hate yourself for falling for it.

You hate them and yourself MUCH more than you hate any bunch of strangers somewhere on a college campus who are happily deluded with their fantasies. You hate the people who matter - you and those you love. And you want to abandon the world (and yourself and those you love) out of rage = almost "going on strike" against your own disappointment. And you DID abandon the world - that's the dp.

If you can find a way to TALK about those kinds of very personal and deeply painful ideas....it will help you greatly. Your obsession with "what did I do today? did I have breakfast this morning? Who did I talk to after that? What exactly did i say?" etc....that obsession with recounting your every move and thought....is all connected to this rage you carry about the above mentioned stuff.

It's as if your obsession is a very bitter way of playing out "well, I'm never again going to do ANYthing on automatic pilot...I'll know what I think, and recall every single thing that was said and done, and I will be PREPARED for any new idea of notion that comes my way. NOBODY will ever fool me again..."

The obession feels like something you do to remind yourself that you're sane. But it's really more complicated than that. It's scratching an itch that has to do with this venom you feel for the times you were "happily not paying attention" and you got suckered into believing things that later disappointed you.

Make any sense?

Many of us here have excellent communication skills and we lament and condemn the Truths about life that we hate. But what most of us lack is the ability to talk about/deal with the very PERSONAL stuff we feel. We tend to "distance" our personal hurts and rages and put them into "things that are wrong with the world" statements. That's part of what dissociatives do, we keep ourselves out of the picture - and seem to be reporting only on what we observe to be true. The keys for undoing symptoms lie in dealing with how we personally feel about very petty things done to us, by us or about us....things that make us feel humiliated and helpless and things we know we need to just accept and move past, but that we REFUSE to accept and move past because we're so enraged at ourselves for being that hooked.

Most of us have battles that we lost long ago, and that we refuse to face. So we keep going back to an empty battleground and refilling our rifles, waiting and planning and mapping out reasons why we should win this round....but there are no enemy soldiers coming anymore. It's over. You lost that one.

You can see that, and move on and find other more interesting battles to fight and territorities to take and maps to plot and friends to make and kingdoms to dream of. Or you can keep getting up at dawn and crawling up the same lonely cold hill to wait all by yourself, armed with all the reasons why your enemy is bad and deserves to be defeated. But it's over. No one is there anymore but you.

Love ya,
Janine
 

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Most of us have battles that we lost long ago, and that we refuse to face. So we keep going back to an empty battleground and refilling our rifles, waiting and planning and mapping out reasons why we should win this round....but there are no enemy soldiers coming anymore. It's over. You lost that one.

You can see that, and move on and find other more interesting battles to fight and territorities to take and maps to plot and friends to make and kingdoms to dream of. Or you can keep getting up at dawn and crawling up the same lonely cold hill to wait all by yourself, armed with all the reasons why your enemy is bad and deserves to be defeated. But it's over. No one is there anymore but you.
Such an awesome discussion, and the quote above has so much relevance and is such a great analogy of what is really going on in our feeble minds.

Thanks for this Janine and Matt. It is a huge help.
 
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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
You've probably also got rage at someone who lied to you, who painted you a lovely picture of a pretty little world, who misled you for their own reasons, who lured you in, seduced you with what you wanted to hear....and then did NOTHING to prepare you for eventual disappointment. But mostly I bet you hate yourself for falling for it.
Yes

You hate the people who matter - you and those you love. And you want to abandon the world (and yourself and those you love) out of rage = almost "going on strike" against your own disappointment. And you DID abandon the world - that's the dp.
Yes

It's as if your obsession is a very bitter way of playing out "well, I'm never again going to do ANYthing on automatic pilot...I'll know what I think, and recall every single thing that was said and done, and I will be PREPARED for any new idea of notion that comes my way. NOBODY will ever fool me again..."
Yes

Most of us have battles that we lost long ago, and that we refuse to face. So we keep going back to an empty battleground and refilling our rifles, waiting and planning and mapping out reasons why we should win this round....but there are no enemy soldiers coming anymore. It's over. You lost that one.
Yes. And grieving about having Lost the battle (experience the humiliation and pain, and self-hate and inadequencies to have not been able to 'win').
That may bring Me back (it actually Does).

Your post couldnt have come on a better moment, Janine. Thanks.

Love
Wendy
 

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Some people have a lot of rage toward a few individuals and are blaming everyone. Well explained, Janine.
 

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Hey Janine,

Of course i'm fine with you using my post (more than fine, I find it very helpful to be used as an example because your explanation is then obviously focused around my problem).

First, I want to clarify that I do not have rage toward the individuals who take part in drinking, drugs, or are part of the working class i describe. In fact, i'd assume 90% of the people on this board are part of at least 1 of the 3 groups mentioned above and I certainly have no rage to anyone here.

I am however, iffy on the rage towards the individuals that lied to me, and didn't prepare me for this world. This would obviously include my parents, as well as other adult individuals who influenced me as a child. I really don't have any rage towards them, at least I don't think so... as I feel they are sucked into the whole thing themselves. They truly believe university is all I need in life.. they told me drugs and alcohol are bad which is what any parent would do.

It was my own mind that transformed the "drugs and alcohol are bad", into "only bad people do them" .. and because of this I also transofrmed it in my mind into bad, as in only few people did it.. like how only few people robbed banks or kidnapped children... I invented it in my head to believe that it wasn't a common every day occurance. Then when I find out it is.. it basically threw me for a loop.

I think you are on to something with the hating myself for believing it, for falling for it... maybe I am. One thing you hit right on the head Janine, was the going back to my childhood naivety... sometimes I hate that I am an 18 year old kid, who (thinks) he's got it alll figured out. I almost want to be stupid and go off and get drunk and do dumb things with everyone else. I want to go back to believing that university will get me everything ive ever dreamed, and that working 40 plus hours a week will make me happy.

Janine, I love your metaphor with the battlefield, but I need your help applying it. What battle have I lost? Is it the fact that I constantly am looking for the *false* goodness that I thought existed? It's true in some senses.. any time I find a straight-edged person who doesnt do drugs or drink, I think "oh thank god there is hope".. then I meet 10 more people who do. Do I need to just give in and accept the world is bad? Obvisouly your not telling me to just start drinking etc.. But what do I need to do?

I know your not an expert on my life, i'm just lost and confused. I don't want to search for ever for goodness, and something that really makes me happy... but I also don't want to give in and accept that I hate this world. I know I have to stop the hatred of the world, or of myself, or whatever it is.

It's just so hard for me.. when i'm in my dorm, and 10 of my friends run up to me, hammered screaming I should start drinking again and join them. And I sigh, and say no thanks, i'll just stay in.. and I sit in my room wishing someone would understand. Sometimes I go out with them sober, and try and have an awesome time.. its kind of annoying and frustrating.. but I feel better about it anyways.

the memory thing being connected to my need for control could be very accurate too. Loss of memory for me equals loss of control... if I can't remember every aspect of my day I must be crazy. I focus on it every second, and like you said.. I never allow myself to just live... I've never heard living on autopilot be used in a good sense, but you did it and I see what you mean. You need a nice balance.. living with reflection and thought but into living.. but to eliminate the constant self-monitoring, obsessions etc... now I just need to know how to obtain it.

none of this post connects or makes any point, which i hate lol. there's nothing more satisfying then typing and just solving my problem as I go.. no such luck.. just random thoughts.[/b]
 

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You've probably also got rage at someone who lied to you, who painted you a lovely picture of a pretty little world, who misled you for their own reasons, who lured you in, seduced you with what you wanted to hear....and then did NOTHING to prepare you for eventual disappointment. But mostly I bet you hate yourself for falling for it.

god...today...i'm so mad at my ex. i feel this way about him. i feel betrayed by him every minute for not being who i wanted him to be. and for saying he WASNT GOING ANYWHERE and loved me SO MUCH but if he did he wouldn't have tried to be so subtly controlling and horrible and not have concern for how i felt. i really feel this way sometimes. I wish he would kill himself. It's his birthday. He's 26 today and has nothing to show for it and maybe he should just fucking die already.

i hate myself and my other ex, scott, for the relationship that we had...the manipulation that went on there...that made me so repulsed and hurt by love that any good feelings i COULD HAVE HAD with my last boyfriend...weren't there. it makes me want to die. seriously. i can't take this shit anymore. i can't take something good about to be happening and then this shit. i can't fucking believe it. nothing is ever going to get better. i fucking hate my life right now and i feel it's not going to get any better.

i wish my ex had not been in my life at this time. i wish i could forget the last two months. i wish he would die. i wish he would die. i wish he would die.

i hope he accidentally ingests klonopin again and blacks out and slits his wrists but for chrissake get it vertical not horizontal; not only is he a fuckhead but an idiot who can't slit his wrists properly. him being alive is a waste of my time.
 

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Matt, your issues on the drugs are very black and white.

not everyone who drinks and does drugs is bad or lazy, not even close. those who are bad and lazy, probably WOULD be anyway; the drinking just ACCENTUATES it. you're mad at people for not being the way you want them to be, but you would rather blame the alcohol, thinking that without the alcohol in their systems you could actually CHANGE them to who you want them to be!

Examples of alcohol/drugs affecting people differntly:

My son of a bitch ex: 26 as of today, no job no hope no life drinks all day sometimes does drugs and sometimes takes the wrong combinations of drugs and blacks out and wrecks his car and slits his wrists.

He would probalby be a pathetic waste of shit anyway. The alcohol just ACCENTUATES that. Man. What a poor fucking bastard.

Me: Taking Xanax illegally to deal with son of a bitch ex. 3.5 cumulative college GPA, a nice number of friends, all around bad ass mother-fucker of a personality. :)

See how alcohol and drugs affect two entirely different people differently :p

ok really, though. i crushed on this pothead once. and i thought maybe if he saw the world through MY eyes he would become something I liked. because i couldn;t have him be a pothead and like me at the same time. maybe i liked him, anyway. but i was too ashamed to have him around as a pothead.

he didn't change, though. he is just a pothead, albeit someone i once had strong feelings for.

______________________

did your parents have very strong standards on whom you should hang out with and date? because my family seems to be of the persuasion that one doesn't go to college to be anything but a doctor or a lawyer. now, i could be judging too harshly but growing up it seemed anytime i had a slight interest in something (like sewing a skirt), i was told by everyone that i would make a massive career out of it (be the next Donna Karan). once while walking down seventh avenue, in NYC, my dad and i passed the Fashion Information Kiosk. I was at my DP worst at this time and about to start school 1500 miles away from home. things were falling apart, and as we passed that kiosk my asshole dad said "in five years i want that to be the 'melissa information kiosk'".

I hope he dies soon.

just for even thinking that way.

well, in my one very DP'd semester at FIT, I did not become a famous fashion designer. I did, in fact, accomplish some other achievements:

1) land myself in the ER of Saint Vincent's hosptial,
2) give a lot of time and money to a particular cult church thinking they had a cure for me, being turned away for certian treatments in order to buy more classes
3) compulsively shopped and spent hundreds of dollars of my dad's money
4) took the highest single dose of adderall I ever had, just to try to feel normal (60 mg, which is very high for me since i can feel the effects of 5 mg now)
5) get people to buy me alcohol b/c i was underage
6) take all my roomates ativan, and hallucinate off of Sonata sleeping pills that didn't do their job effectively enough

and last but not least, my proudest accomplishment:

7) went out onto the streets of New York, in the middle of the night, looking for someone, anyone to fuck. I found a sleazy looking guy who showed pictures of his "male modeling" portfolio to me, made comments about the acne on my face, and then helped me take my slutty outfit off at the seediest hotel on 27th street (one near my school), and fuck me. There was porn in the background and he was asking me "do you like my cock?" in his egyptian accent. he vaguely resembled denzel washington in the mouth. I ran out of the hotel mid-act, crying, wishing i had not done that, and he was standing at the doorway saying "you dont' know what you're missing out on!"

oh yeah and i gained 25 pounds of unwanted fat.

Shit. Somewhere in that busy busy New York experience of mine I FORGOT TO BECOME DONNA FUCKING KARAN! OH SHIT!

guess we can't be what our parents want us to be, huh.

...but also during this stay in new york I still hated the 18 year olds in the dorms who would get too drunk, I thought i was better than that, those people were idiots and the one friend i made was an idiot because she liked the band Garbage.

I was able to hate people based on standards set by my parents and some 'friends', yet when i didn't meet perfection i ended up fucking a stranger in a seedy hotel, where he could have easily raped and killed me.

That was three and a half years ago.

I still have not gotten myself tested for AIDS, as I spent most of the years running away from this memory whilst developing a strange intense fetish for middle eastern guys and ONLY middle eastern guys (he was from egypt, i had not previously had a thing for middle eastern guys) and their controversial treatment of women only turned me on more.

I hated myself for not reaching perfection.

I hated the European girl in my class who was skinny and perfect. I began to hate europeans. because all my anorexia attempts had finally backfired and i could not control my eating, something that embarassed the hell out of me. i could not stop fucking eating.

i hated the europeans, and hated myself more. but i still loved aggressive egyptian guys. because they gave me the respect i gave myself.

i felt flawed compared to the other members of the "cult" i tried joining because they had found out on their little lie detector that i tried once to commit suicide, and therefore i had to take more programs in order to get on the detox thing.

i met a guy at a club called Webster Hall. he was from Long Island. he reminded me of a nice guy friend in dallas. he was normal enough, the kind of kid that dresses up a little for some weekend clubbing. probably very decent to talk to. all night i wanted to talk to him. i finally did, and we exchanged numbers.

he called (or did i call him?)

and i hated him, because he was too intimidated by me. He liked the band tool which i thought was lame and mainstream at the time. he couldnt' keep up with my harsh attitude, and when he stuttered a word or warped a belief ever so slightly for me, i drove it into his chest.

what a loser.

i came back to tulsa and dated a man whom i could not be as harsh as and I loved him for it. I got off on when he strangled me during sex.

I liked it a lot. and him a lot.

i just didn't like to see him get mad.

after the break up, it was hard to even think about the sex. i remember he had the coldest look in his eyes, like he was some robot or Nazi or something.

I thought I wanted that harshness?

I thought i wanted that hotel room?

I thought I wanted to be better than the alcoholics?

I thought I wanted to be a fashion designer?

Why, would i get on my highest of highs; before the DP I was a model of Ayn Rand's works, achieving perfection at every turn. Never made less than an A at the Art Institute. I chased down a professor of color theory because when we had to paint our color wheel we would get counted off slightly if there were visible brush strokes. I could not get my paint to go on perfectly even without brush strokes. I had to find this man (he was hot, too!) to make sure i wouldnt' get less than an A.

he said it really didn't matter, after reaching him in a panic on my day off from classes.

I kept my body in beyond perfect shape. if I ate a few calories more than expected, I would go to a club and attempt to dance it off (while being mean to any guy that approached me)

or i would walk five miles instead of hanging out with friends at school. once on one of my five/six mile walks, i passed by the school and saw my classmates. i made sure to stay in the dark b/c otherwise they would see me and invite me to hang out. and then i wouldn't get my exercise.

everyone i met back then was stupid. they drank too much (i envied their drinking though, because many of htem were skinny and could drink beer. i was convinced i was too fat for beer. that's partially why i hated alcohol. it got in the way of me getting thin-- and it got in the way of me being in control of my emotions)

i couldn't stand the idea of people having fun. being blissfully ignorant. because i was busy torturing myself every day to be perfect, i might as well have ripped my skin off and poked at my twitching muscles, it would have been nicer than the thoughts i had of myself.

once i saw a girl playing sand volleyball. and a guy came up and was teasing with her. i decided it was because her calves were smaller than mine, that she was getting this attention.

Nevermind the fact that i had starved myself to the piont of being able to see all my ribs, vertabrae, for my collarbone to rise enough over my chest to be its own entity, and for the flesh under my chin to be thin as paper. her calves were smaller than mine.

be perfect. screw up. be horribly imperfect. be as beautiful as dorian grey but be unaware, like he was, of the places he and i visited at night, away from our palaces of perfection...and down to the lowest spots of humanity where whilst our physical beauty may (or may not!) have remained intact we did the most horrible sexual, chemical, and betrayal acts we possibly could and then woke up the next day in our room pretending as if it had never happened. (unfortunately i gained weight where as dorian grey kept his looks. I think it was because i didn't have a portrait done like he did. damnit, i will have to remember that next time i split myself so.)

I fucked a stranger in a new york hotel, while he asked me how i liked his cock and if i wanted to watch "dirty movie" (not A dirty movie, just dirty movie) and boy did it feel good and scary at the same time. And mere months before I was so clean and pure that i would not touch sugar and I would not make a grade below an A and i was the darling of the teachers at my previous school in dallas.

when i was 20, fresh back in tulsa from new york, I did ecstacy every weekend, sometimes multiple pills, and took cocaine and combined it with whatever i could find...we snorted it off the glass tabletops of my boyfriend's dad's office, the office of an upstanding christian citizen and here were were scratching up his nice table with cocaine marks.

after running him through a mill of drugs and keeping his mind away from school and such, i dumped him for manic, manipulative boyfriend "S" whom disliked it when I looked him into the eyes during sex because he said it made it seem as if i was looking up to him as a savior or a father figure, a man whom everytime i would do something he disliked, said "you know, my ex used to do that", and who told me that i would look really hot if i toned up.

(oh well he's 35 with no college education and has been unemployed for three years. he would look SO MUCH HOTTER with a fucking job.)

extremes.

pure as a monk or doing every drug as much as possible, sipping vodka from a water bottle straight and taking 12 xanax and smoking pot and a year later doing as much ecstacy as i could put into my system, enough to start hallucinating from it.

but i hated those damn college kids who had a few beers and got rowdy!

how dare those irresponsible fucks get drunk! They have great, Randian things to achieve! We're all supposed to be John fucking Galt, that is what I thought! If i'm so busy achieving perfection, how could they have a few beers and be ina stupid sorority?

and then, when failure after failure mounted and i just didn't have it in me to do the work or starve myself anymore, i wondered how the system and my dad could have let me down like this, how could i have had the iq over 200 (according to my dad, yet i only made a 31 on the ACT which is incredibly grand but not proportional to the highest IQ possible) and not be in harvard and why be anywhere else because it's obviously a waste of time and oh if i had NOT fucked up i would be the next donna karan.

but god damnit, why are those college kids drinking.

Or working 9-5 and happily hanging out with friends.

while im making straight A's...or doing drugs...or fucking strangers whom might be carrying diseases (and forever fantasizing about them, and rape, later)...or attempting suicide by taking 50+ sedative pills...or making the president's list four quarters in a row for my 4.0...or making it into the best fashion school based off a portfolio i pulled together in three weeks while working an 18 hour class-load, sometimes putting in 12 hour days at the school just to work on one outfit.

and the whole time i mocked those stupid college kids who made mediocre grades, lived that "illusion" of a life, happy with being "stupid", happy with drinking...

because I could not be what my dad and Ayn Rand and dishonest ex boyfriends and my dead grandfather wanted me to be.

I hated those other kids for being able to party and have fun while i was having to please these people. i was never good enough and they got to relax. it sure wasn't fair.

so i decided they were wrong.

after all, i had gone too far in life to be wrong, right?
 
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Discussion Starter · #8 ·
person3:

I read every word.

Twice.

I wish I could say "just be ordinary and have some beer and relax and learn to bowl and enjoy being like the neighbors."

But instead, what I WANT to say ( but try to refrain for fear I'll just sound like Dagne) is that your writing above is extraordinarily good. It's professionally good. I read it with more fervor, and said "wow" aloud more often, than if I was reading a well-reviewed essay in The New YOrk Review of Books.

One of the hardest things I've had to learn is how to be extraordinarily ordinary. I'm not the average kid next door. I'm also not John Galt (or even Dagne). I'm me. And that means having some remarkable gifts, and some ordinary fears, and some talents that amaze people, and some needs and obsessions that bore people.

I'm not perfect and never will be.
I want to be EvERything. And I'm not.
I'm also not "nothing" and never was.

life takes work. and it's so hard to find a balance when you know there's genius in you, but that even genius isn't enough.

life takes work. And I still insist, despite your rage, despite your pain, despite your past, you're on your way to finding happiness in this world, M. We don't need another Donna Karan. But I am glad you're on the planet.

Love,
your fan,
Janine
 

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and, matt. you stayed in your dorm wishing you would understand.

i stayed in my dallas apartment wishing the same. that people would understand the complex ME. and see MY world. and if they were weak and liked to put chemicals in their body they could not POSSIBLY understand me.

oh, yes, I wanted them to understand ME.

but did I EVER want to understand them?

Fuck no!

Why would I waste my time, I was perfect and they were not!

see what's going on here...you may be wanted to be saved by antoher perfect person who would understand you, instead of compromise and accept human flaws and mistakes of the friends who are TRYING to reach out to you, even if they aren't doing it in the best way possible, don't you see that they LIKE you? Don't they see that they still try to hang out with you even when you push them away? There is a chunk of goodness (and gold!) right there. you have a whole bunch of people who want to see and understand you. unfortunately they're human also and alcohol is one of their quirks. if you accepted that and let yourself have a fun time with them (and a few drinks if it's not detremental to your condition...heh..you seem like you could use it in fact...you have not much else to lose)...if you let yourself have fun with them, my god, you would be spending FAR less time hating and blaming the world, and far more time treasuring these new friendships. in fact, you would forget about a lot of the hate you have that is so black and white anyway...you would probably have too much fulfillment in life to care and sit and be angry.

Get the fuck out of your dorm and start partying. Because if university is that much of a waste as you would like to think (which it is not, it is what you make of it...the people whose degrees are worthless are often the ones who don't want to make that extra effort of making connections and moving to a larger city and such...but i promise you...having no degree at all REALLY fucks you over in the job market...even if you have a crappy job made possible from a degree, it would be crappier without!)...if uni is that much of a waste, you might as well have random fun and develop friendships that are actually more valuable than you're willing to give them credit for.

one of the most poignant conversations i have had last summer was with my aunt. i was crying because i thought i was too fat and the girl whose bat mitzvah we were attending was skinny and therefore perfect in my eyes.

eventually in this conversation, my aunt burst out with "You need to go to a REAL college and party like people your age do. I used to think i was above all that but then i realized i was only missing out."

sure enough, the more fun and partying i have, the more i find friends and meaning in my life.

as a rabbetzin (female rabbi) once said, think of your life as a matchbook. if you only have one match in the box (say, the match that would light your career after a successful run at university), and that match fails, you have nothing. but if you have MANY matches (a match to light your friendships, a match representing your family, a match representing an extracirricular activity), you can lose one of these matches and still have a very full life.

but you are relying on one or very few matches, matt, and the empty space in your matchbook is getting filled with rumination and DP. think about it.
 
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Dear Matt,
I wish I had a formula to tell you HOW to do those things....but I don't. The one thing I can promise is this: the mourning of "what used to be" is unbearable if what USED to be never even was in the first place, but what we're mourning is the illusions of what used to be.

It's not that the world is horrible at all. It's just not the way YOU want it to be. And the "horrible" part is that you're so hellbent on hating what it ISN'T that you can't find a way to build a life within the good parts of what it is.

Rage. Grudges. Refusals to make the "best of" when we're so angry that we HAVE to....cutting off the nose to spite the face, we go on strike against our own life by living as a testament to our own disappointment.

Just food for thought. ALL we can do is try to shine a light on the truths behind how we keep ourselves stuck. Then slowly, we keep LOOKING at it in the light and we might decide to make some changes.

Love ya,
Janine
 

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may i also add, to everybody, that at least in my life it seemed to be passed down my mother's side of the family that being plain ole you was bad. you had to watch your weight or do something because man a slight slip of a human error would not be a good thing. this could have been skewed by my mom but it gets passed down generatiosn and people believe it.

one thing that hit me recently was my guilt for buying silly stupid things. i always remember my dad's side of the family saying "no" when i wanted a cheap little souveneir that meant so much to me. you always had to be saving for some future date. granted they were rich but hey, i get miserable when i try to save my money. i love cheap make-up, surfboard keychains from santa monica, wal-mart goodies (even if i dont' like walmart), a new CD, fast food. I don't really like champagne, expensive hotels (the people there often seem snobby and i would rather be at a mid-priced hotel with lots of amenities than have to be at a high priced hotel with little amenities except ones i can't afford and instead fill my vacation time wtih comparisons to the other hotel guests' bodies.) I'm just not that way and I love my cheap crap. that's one thing i hated and envied about my mom, her cheap crap. little whimsical gift shop things she bought either compulsively or just muich more of than deemed acceptable by...well..most anyone.

according to my grandmother (mom's mom) i don't want what I REALLY want, but i want the ugly jewelry and clothes from Chico's that she tries to give me. She likes it when i wear boxy things because tailored things somehow are unflattering for my figure. my god, i must be three hundred pounds and i didn't know it!

so i often transferred these hates to other people, the ones that were transferred to me. when i saw a friend from a poor family buy a new cd, i thought "that's why you're poor. because you dont' invest that money" yet i couldnt' invest my money because i dont' give a flying fuck about money unless i can spend it right away on fun stuff (preferably in the color pink!) I hated seeing an ex-boyfriends daughter get fun little treats from her grandparents, because i never allowed myself anything fun.

just another thing to think about, for me i guess and maybe for others who read this...

those things you ahte in other people...were they things you were ashamed to want for yourself?

this hanukkah my brothers got ipods...i'm thinking of asking my dad for the money equivalent to splurge on cosmetics. yes, a couple hundred dollars worth of make up. cheap stuff. expensive stuff. i want to experiment. i want to see what red eyeshadow looks like. but i'm ashamed to say "i want such and such eyeliner, this and that" i feel like a little kid again, trying to hide what i really want for a holiday present and i sheepishly say "just give me the money" and not tell him what i'm getting. I am so often ashamed of wanting what i really want.
 

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oh and antoher thing...

it's not that it was all lies, matt. it's that it wasn't all of the truths you had in mind. there are some of the things that were possible but not the ones you thougth and there were some things that were not true but yet as a child you did not know better and sometimes we take our parent's words too literally. and get mad later. like i'm sure i have done and probalby did in this thread.
 
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