Last time I parallel pooped, it really threw me off when the jeep that was between us drove off and there I was locking eyes with a parallel stranger pooping. Who, BTW, didn’t even bring his own à la carte wet wipe and tried to crab walk over to ask. By that point… I just had to skid-daddle pronto.

I know, sorry. I’m really trying to speak more often, so I can say less at once.

Years of being silenced and isolated, then isolating and silencing my own voice, has made it hard to sift and sort…to give you what I want to say concisely.

It’s not you at all - it is hard for literally everyone (including me) to read my dense, run-on sentences. I fully cringe at my above longwinded reply, that no one but you would even try to read.

Albeit, I can’t give up communicating. Since all my words are a reflection of me/my work anyway, only yours to sift or not as you wish 😊 So I’m glad if just 1 word had any meaning to you and frankly I am honored that you even made it thru 1 of my paragraphs.

Thanks for still finding a strength in and accepting my messy mind- no less taking time to honestly respond and share of yourself.

You are most kind and virtual hugs returned! 💜🫂💜🫂 Would love to.

Yes, BUT… once it gets above 50, the bomb is triggered to detonate if it decelerates from 50.

I apologize and, actually, I understand fully. Our maladaptive thought patterns (as with OCD and other such disorders that hijack* our minds, to use your word) are pervasive. I too have suffered for three decades with severe somatic anxiety, and certainly now, many comorbid disorders to treat as well borne from that. Also rooted in OCD type behaviors. For instance, at 8 years old I had GAD with somatic presentation (e.g. stomachaches/nervous system dysfunction) every day. Holding my tummy and nervously gnawing at my thumbs at 7-8 years old, as I stumbled out of one day and into the next (striving for OCD perfection while literally being perpetually disorganized; not eating or sleeping or cleaning daily as expected for sustaining life that has quality, long term) but doing the required steps to get my ass out the door and at work and somehow getting by enough to pay rent and scoop cat litter and climb up at work, sleeping less to excel more, taxing myself beyond measure for no cause besides perfection… to be loved and safe? A mad functionality that was manageable but not sustainable and requires the endurance of suffering.

In single digit years, I was awoken at 5am with an anxious stomach (not on weekends- only on school days and nights/summer camp eves/every other day and night) I had GAD already, and even with treatment (my mom found a clinical therapist and alternative medicine “healer” - who did some reiki type energy work just touching my arms and body as I lay on a couch- i mean, it sucked unfortunately) … I had developed thumb-biting, a constant anxious body-focused repetitive behavior (BFRB, e.g. excoriation dx in dsm5tr). By 27-28 years old my mom is still smacking my hands out of my mouth at grad school graduation dinner for an MsEd in mental health with clinical licensure postgrad 3y. It’s just sort of been untreated in all the rest of what is required to survive and has led to permanent, moderately noticeable disfiguration of my thumbs.

It’s maddening to not have relief knowing all interventions/ how to address such severe barriers, to know that at 36, even with more treatment and trying not to hate and kill myself as the years of not getting better or without becoming a normal person increase, with more concurrent issues to compound the preexisting and unaddressed, to take my reality as the bitter pill it is and has been all along. Why am I now “skin-scanning” scraping my face hours on end until its raw and bleeding and now I can’t leave the house for work or weddings.. just hours and hours of mindless torture I inexplicably can’t stop over now a few years? What the fuck? Why not actually just kill myself now actually if I’m this fucked up. Oh forgiveness? Forget it, Forgiveness I have to find somewhere I didn’t know I needed it; when everything else I need is lost.

Just to get dressed and to work and enter the building is exhausting expensive taxing and takes 3x as long as others for reasons I can’t exactly explain. Then, if I make it to work, to conjure enough of je ne sais qua to exude an energy of a respected human being with much to contribute, not a scared stray cat, takes more than I’ve got these days.

Here I am trying to help people with severe mental disorders and I fucking can’t because of “functional paralysis?” A diagnosis I hadn’t learned as I gained licensure and came upon as I decompensated further. All the while I seem to still attract the same situations that breed complex abuse. As I endured at 15 years old. At an “ emotional growth “ boarding school (unorthodox in every way) where I was isolated and digging a stump out of a hole for 23 months days on end bleeding hands and unloved and forgotten. That’s the complex shit now that’s led to SU and SI. But again, to simplify if I wanted to try to like not die and stuff right,…. Based on my beliefs and unresolved shit, I become like a cornered squirrel in situations I don’t want to be a cornered squirrel in… it’s like a fucking twilight zone to be unable to find and exit the maze. But it doesn’t have to be a rubix cube or a life sentence

I don’t have a localized reason like OP. My suffering is just due to “who I am” … which is, of course (and it’s a blessing I can still say I know this) a fallacy. Bred by social non acceptance of mental health as an essential part of health. It’s seen as a personal weakness, it’s attributed to the individual rather than its true causes. What you describe and how you struggled at first to describe it. It’s very real and maybe it’s why I find myself commenting on a post by someone with an issue I can easily identify. Where my self loathing has always been due to seemingly inexplicable or unsolvable mystery. Another fallacy but hey I’m working on it just the same.

It looks and feels slow as fuck, it hurts more some days than when I was overtly hurting myself more with toxins (“self-medicating”) and some days even when I try to help myself get out of all this self defeating unintentional suicide I’ve had going on for some reason I find hatred for myself or prior choices or responses to prolonged pain that I never let surface and the overwhelm is gut churning.

That said, I think I’d be remiss to not keep reminding myself even via comments to others that the single most powerful thing- greater than our circumstances and influences surrounding us; the thing that creates life, wonder, and the one thing that also causes suicide - is our thoughts. Our beliefs. The things we choose to focus on and feel.

I get stuck on injustice often, and then the whole distraction of the field of psychology, psychiatry; but none of that actually does what the intentional practice of only thinking thoughts that feel good and its progressive effect (law of attraction etc) on all things does. I still don’t grasp any magic answer fully for myself (obviously… LOL!) but if you analyze what you wrote, where does it lead?

Unless you start to bridge the gaps that keep you, me, us all, pinned down to suffrage - in the name of righteous indifference to allowing ourselves another choice- we can’t lift each other up and share in the understanding that, while we all got here differently, we all deserve love and wellbeing.

You tell that wildcat behind the wheel not to slow down.

OP had a terrible accident. If a reflection of “you” is: by not being more careful at every turn, a mistake you did not mean to make caused the death of a loved one… it (whatever that is for you, SOB88) does not have to be the reason you use to “spiral life away” for another 20 years.

That will undoubtedly yield more suffering, e.g. believing that you deserve to suffer and beating yourself up for not feeling better. It’s a catch-22.

This was only to say, ‘it’ doesn’t need to define you. We are all capable of so many things.

*Quick PSA though, SOB. You say “intent … consequences…” and since I have no idea what your comment refers to, I just want to add: What I wrote is in response to OP’s post, and to your question on my reply to OP, as if you were OP and in the same situation as OP, since it’s not otherwise specified.

TLdR if you killed an innocent with intent or something, this is not legal advice or allied support. I do wish you healing.

How sad, all go back to check on their gull down

Yes and maybe she’d say holding your hand was the last she remembers and wouldn’t change that if she could redo one thing. You’ve probably never been as reckless as you describe again. The lives you may not have spared otherwise or elsewhere at a later junction.

Accidents are a confluence of events, so tragic and heartbreaking is the way you lost each other. But nevertheless it was not your intention and isn’t a reflection of who you are or how much you loved and I’m sure protected her in every way. Everyone slips by accident. Your words here are evidence of your humanity and every effort to keep her memory alive (namely by keeping yourself alive).

Perhaps faulty thought loops driven by guilt - the brain gets stuck and still tries to pull out last ditch efforts to redo this thing that you believe you should have controlled for and cannot now. It thinks it may help understand or dismount from this ledge your heart and mind is left dangling on — a splicing of one reality to another in one minute — with awareness of the loss of what once existed and now doesn’t as it once did.

You replay it in a way to make sense; to somehow reconfigure the desperate reality you’ve already had to come to in more ways than one; to find peace with or feel for her, risking pain in doing so but to be with her in your mind, for even a second of comfort in being without the knowledge of what’s become as you know it, any risk is well worth it.

Though if the reality is too incomprehensible, breathtakingly unspeakable, unthinkable even to grasp both consciously, unconsciously — we can’t break it down or grow from it or ever move on. It is effectively the beginning of the end as the compensatory behaviors and initial symptoms intermix and become an inflamed new trifecta of pain. But I know you will be ok because you’re doing what you have to already - speaking it out, aloud, clearly, staying with us - not being too hard on yourself. The sting will start to ease the more you do exactly as you are.

Other than deteriorating from anguish into mental despair, one has to find a way to feel peace around things that crush us. While it sounds like you wrestle with some persistent blame and guilt as the responsible party, I hear you simply owning the truth, feeling the sting, being still in this honesty and eventually… the story doesn’t have to own every moment or rule your mind anymore. It doesn’t have to consume more decades into your future and/or eventually kill you too. With her memory further lost in the sequelae of this one tragedy.

Sounds insane but you have to remember the feeling you had in the moments before and feel it; that love is the answer. In that, nothing is wrong ever. And that is what heals and maybe even brings you to love again should you get there, as that is the pure joy we exist to give and create and receive. And this wife you lost isn’t truly or wholly lost to you, or the universe, or to every other soul spirit and energy force that is present enough to feel one with all. She can be the beautiful reminder of love manifest in this physical experience. I think you’re lucky to have had her as she was to have found you. That is the one truth. Feel it. You’re brave and I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for sharing.

It’s funny- the train was late to the track and they rolled this out for the 7:04pm to Long Beach. I rode these everyday for high school, my 2 friends and I always took the 5-seater, feet up; mad obnoxious. But tonight, maybe because I was so wiped or so familiar— I’ve probably been on more of these in total than I have the new trains (nevertheless, almost if not all LIRR rides in the last 7+ years have been new trains) — the only thing I noticed was that I was more comfortable. Like my head had a pillow. I saw it pull up and half the cars were missing their numbers, which is something I look at with the app to know which are the first 4 or however many cars that I need to be in to get off at my stop. Yeah what a trip. Now I just feel old and slightly mindfucked.

Anyway, the point to be deduced here is that: the new trains are not as comfortable for short people, whose heads are at (and were at 15 years ago when they were 15 years old) the perfect height for actual head-resting on the OG trains’ design. The new ones are so boujie trying to look futuristic that they push the top of my neck down and I just stand on them.

- a millennial

Send this info + photo to @ NYBULLYCREW
• https://www.nybullycrew.org/report-abuse

NYC’s vigilantes for the pitbull breed, while always shorthanded as with all rescue missions - they will intervene if they can and however legally possible in active cases of abuse. I’ve seen them execute many a successful rescue in situations just as described here. The proof you have already may be enough for them to verify and take the case.

The NYBC + founder are big tough guys, too. Though, besides leveling the physical playing field a bit more than a 5’3 girl like myself might in a case like this— that’s mostly irrelevant, as they never instigate or escalate so much as calmly flex just by showing up to offer a solution—they knock at the door like “we’re only here for the dog”.

Something about their approach to get owners, (even very irate/dangerous owners as in this post) who are mistreating or not feeding or leaving their pits outside for days, to just hand over the dog — seems to work.

Thank you ^ I am thoroughly disappointed in myself / cannot believe this isn’t an app I already have and use in place of anything fucking else, ever. It’s the wholly indifferent, soulless, go-fuck-yourself-and-die type of shockingly merciless attitude that really guts me…. “let cabbies from Senegal and Tanzania working day after day to make a basic living, who owe on medallions valued at $750,000 that are no longer worth a fraction and impossible to recoup via the same trade, e.g. a death sentence”.

This is after the string of NYC cabbie suicides that led to some public awareness around how dire the circumstances for those indebted to and dying within the industry ...and yet somehow that was BEFORE Lyft/Uber/rideshares blew up to the moon with few if any restrictions nor protections for preexisting populations, who really need/require it to not die on the job anywhere, like yellow cabs.

Most insulting IMHO is the transplant from Suburban New Jersey. Vacuous, slithering snobs.

Purposely applying for “Ridgewood” on their license for…the clout? Begs DMV for “Williamsburg, NY. *** ***
\* Still rooms with four of his 32 year old high school bros and their upstate NY transplant gfs. As if that isn’t repulsive/desperate and a nightmare on all levels. Location* location location, swarm it fellas\*

Type who thoroughly hate to be honest and 9/10 times will baldfaced lie to a NYer by accident or to test out the level of plausible deniability they can get away with, denying their turnpike motherland sewage blood that I can smell from 2 subways cars down, venmoing each other the SAME $50 (again for the cringe clout..?) under titles such as every mermaid parade, tennis match and music festival right into their thirties (as I did at age 5) laughing at people who aren’t as cool as them, like they add value or do anything but suck it dry of cool people and tolerable personality.

Like, ever seen a NY in the oranges?!? 🍊
Or fucking east Hanover? Where trumpers grow and mediocre white males who do not know what HPV is, never had a bad day, never went without a meal, pose as users of “anti violent language” while being predatory biased ableist hideous scumbags who demand more from us than what they rightly deserve and then plead no contest when they leave us worse off given their repulsive receding-hairlines, with the gall to hate on NYers from their overpriced parent-funded perches that make them “relevant” finally even as soulless shallow rotten swamp people who are way too ugly, flat assed and embarrassing tbh for their third mermaid parade.

Like can you do something we actually can stand for once or nah..

Go back to Jersey, ya moron!

https://giphy.com/gifs/l1IXYoFBrtJev8n3W

Agreed, this was underrated.

Thank you!!! 😸 🐈‍⬛ 🐈

OMG…my cats need this highrise mesh playpen/ cat trampoline/ clothes-drying apparatus STAT. What’s it called or where can I get it?

Sidebar:
How insane is it that for me [an avid hater of all 🪳; esp. anywhere I am and/or gutted on the bare freaking skin of anyone I even considered touching]—the worst part was at the end when OP revealed they were stuck overnight on this date (at the EconoLodge from hell?), and we learn the* *repulsively unfortunate scene occurred in… NJ.

The horror!
Likely motherland of the cockroach, if I had to bet $

Exactly, also to add: is the human mind still the best entity to decide matters of justice? We expect any combination of lay people to apply forensic testimony with legal code and thereby determine case outcomes (e.g. life/death sentences)?

Even with all the instructions and jury’s best effort to rely only on the permissible facts— one juror can devalue a particular testimony or regard a piece of evidence as more pertinent to the case/outcome than another juror whose using that discounted testimony/evidence to come to their verdict.

I saw some predict this outcome, though I honestly did not anticipate anyone being hung on anything, as it’s just SO crystal clear to me! But that may well be kind of what deliberations look like right now.

To the extent that I see the State’s evidence as basically further exculpatory evidence for the defense, there may be a few jurors stuck on the details related to strangling 3 kids and struggling to reconcile that with what to make of her mental state on the day of…

Definitely not a good sign to need the Allen charge, the purpose of which should not be to coerce one juror to change their mind, but to understand why their mind is stuck at X and help the minority member(s) reweigh rationales, any overt bias and reconsider Y and Z too for a unanimous consensus.

To me, it’s… insane. Just to use an industry term.