John was right

Question:

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I don`t know whether you are able to work or not. Only you can answer that. I talked to God about this last night. (It was my one moment of emotional peace and quiet.) I just can’t work. Just because I do absolutely zero all day long doesn’t mean I’m lazy or anything. I’m in a lot of pain, and every day is a real struggle. I really hate living. Well, not living, but living on Earth, in this day and age. I keep thinking if I find a great woman, that’ll make things better, but seeing as I’m one step above bed-ridden, I have nothing to offer these potential Aphrodites, other than love, which isn’t enough. I don’t want to lower my standards, which are high, but then I sort of have to, because there aren’t any takers. So salvation through love is out. There’s my writing, but I don’t know what to write about. I’ve been in writer’s block since my teens. I want to write a great novel, and don’t have the skills. I should write every day to improve them, but I absolutely detest my own work. There’s always something wrong with it. It’s like I want to write without having a voice, but that’s impossible. OTOH, there is a voice in me, that I can’t find, and thus can’t express myself, because I’m worried that all I really have to say is a big, 64 pt swear word, with lots of exclamation points. Then there’s money. I have none of that, and as long as I can get some food in me every day, that’s fine … but all I do is spend my money on food. About all of it, actually, minus bills. Food is so damned expensive, and I’m *way* below the poverty line here on disability. What if I could afford a car? What if I could afford a house? What if I could afford to travel? You know. Stuff like that. Plus, I would be able to bring something to the Aphroditic table, as it were, and some wonderful soul of a woman would take me home with her, or rather let me take her to my own palatial, um, palace, because that’s what everyone wants. Or sort of. What does all this mean? There is no hope. My only hope is to get a grant from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, to sit and do nothing. Or else get put on medical marijuana for life, and sit here, do nothing, and just laugh about it. But neither of those things are going to happen, despite Bill having gotten $37bn for his foundation from William Buffet today, considered the largest single donation in American history. That was the high point of my day, actually, to see such a wonderful thing in the news. Not because I’d get even a cent of that money, but because it meant that somewhere on this planet there was righteousness, mercy, love. If the world felt better, I would feel better. But this world is full of violence and hatred, prejudice, poverty, and overall terrible suffering … which seems to send its painful vibes my way. Oy vey, what can be done? Nothing, I guess. Sorry to have rambled. You can tell I’m lonely for talk, and could rattle on like this for two more screens. Hope you’re well, and thanks for listening. Ian

Ian, I can relate to many of your issues. You’re not alone and at least you can always express yourself here. kili — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

I am so sorry your friend did this to you. He should be ashamed. I truly hope you are not.

No, I handled it okay. It was creepy, but I got it over with. I told him he had to leave, end of story. Never saw him again. It was one of the only times I’d ever been hit on, and my luck it had to be a guy. Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Some of you may know my old friend John. Well, actually, that’s not true. None of you do. We had an eventful last night as friends. He hit on me in a very forceful manner, which I won’t describe, and I told him I was going on disability (this was in ‘94). He got very angry, and told me I’d get fat and sit around all the time. Well, I never heard from him after that. My not wanting to sleep with a guy pretty much sealed that door. But he was right about the disability. I’m weak, folks. I’m weak. Not mentally. I’m very strong mentally. I’m very strong in my beliefs and convictions, and my knowledge. Sitting in front of the computer 24/7 for years has taught me more than 6 yrs of the nightmare that was college ever could. But I’m physically weak, and I’m emotionally weak, and that means I can’t get a job. It may not be fair. I was working right up to the point I got on disability. True, I called in sick a lot, and hated every second of it, but most minimum wage workers feel the same way about *their* jobs. But I found out that being psychotic, I could get on disability, and sure enough it was as easy as filling out the forms. Being in a few psych wards kind of greases the skids there. John was right. Disability weakened me. It gave me the time off to mature as a person, which has pretty much saved my life. In 1995 I had my stomach pumped three times because of pill overdoses, I was in jail, in two psych wards, in a group home, and all immediately after leaving college with *one class to go* because I had spent my rent money on drugs. If I hadn’t had the time to reassess my situation, I would be dead today. None of you would be reading this (and, as far as I know, none of you are). What am I saying? The mind wanders. I guess it’s 2.30 am, no one’s up to talk to, I’m dying to unload, and so once again I write what someone on here called horseshit, but hey, those horses have to shit sometimes. I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out of this chair, because the pain I feel is non-stop. I’m constantly exhausted. Right now I feel like I can’t even write this, yet I can’t sleep, I can’t make coffee, I can’t write, I can’t listen to music. When you can’t even muster the strength to *sit down and entertain yourself* that’s exhaustion. That’s where I’m at, and where I’ve been at for yrs. I hope someone out there knows what the hell I’m talking about. I’m drained, and there isn’t much hope, but I’m going to keep on pushing anyway, on the off-chance that I get out of this. Thanks for listening, ASAPM, yet again. Ian

Find something that you can dedicate some of that free time to. There are a lot of Open Source projects that could use help with writing documentation, art work, web design, even programming. Wikipedia needs tons of volunteer proof readers and researchers. There is project Gutenburg that could use help with getting books out for public consumption. If you have a decent speaking voice you can volunteer your time to read a book or even just a chapter of books to make audio books for Project Gutenberg or LibriVox. I think feeling a sense of requirement or dedication to a project/task can really help in motivation. Taking that first step is hardest. Find something small you can volunteer your time to. Even if it is 1 hour a day or 1 hour every other day. It will still give you something to focus your energies on. Jim — _|/_ (o o) | You roll an 18 in Dex and see if you | | don’t end up with a girlfriend | | JimD – Central FL, USA, Earth, Sol | — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Living with depressed humans would be a complete waste of time if it weren’t for the food and the head scratching. Yeah, I know, and I’m going back to sleep, and probably won’t feed her her Fancy Feast until I wake up, which drives her nuts. She’s addicted to that stuff. Lots of fat and protein, designed, it would seem, for the sole purpose of driving cats insane with desire for it. It’s after 4 — maybe I’ll try to get some sleep. I hope you’re doing the same. Yeah, I just konked out very suddenly. I’m so glad I don’t suffer from insomnia. I can’t sleep on a schedule, but when I’m finally sleepy, I just lay down and bam, I’m asleep. Hope you’re doin’ well, Ian

I give Bert some really boring kibble and water all week, with a few hand-fed treats at night. On Sundays he gets a can of real tuna in water. I think this may be the only thing that keeps him around. Well, that and letting him chew my feet. He’s a perv, but I love him. Deirdre — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

I can relate to many of your issues. You’re not alone and at least you can always express yourself here.

Thanks, Kili. This is a wonderful group of people. Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

What kind of jobs do you think of when daydreaming about joining the workforce?

I want to work with sewage. It’s a dream. No, actually, I have no daydreams about getting out into the workforce. I can barely handle cleaning the cat’s litter box, and so I doubt that I’d be able to handle anything other than miniature golf course guy, which I did for a few weeks one summer. It was a very unpopular course. I just sat there and read Jane Austen, and sometimes people would come up, and I would give them their clubs and golf balls. Oh, and a scorecard. Then I would put their money in the till and go back to reading. I was supposed to clean the course, but I never did. That was against the whole purpose of the job: to sit and do nothing. IOW, I look for a job where I can do nothing. The problem is, of course, that when you get hired for a job, typically it’s because someone *needs something done*. What are you gonna do? Maybe I should enter politics. My platform will be simple. About six inches off the ground, plain white tarp, and a chair for me to sit in. I will promise vast wealth to all my constituents, and free health care at the Mayo Clinic, without waiting in line. I will then promise an end to world violence, and the beginning of a galactic empire, and just watch the votes roll in. Then, when I get to Washington, I’ll just forget all those pledges and just vote along party lines. Seems like a decent job. Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

Making someone smile, laugh or just think is a Good Thing(tm) in my book. ;-)

using System; namespace ThanksJim { class YourWordsAreMuchAppreciated { static void Main() { Console.WriteLine("It made me feel better."); } } }

<geek appreciation Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

Try not to let those things stress you out. Remember you are doing them for you and for your enjoyment. Do them if you want, or don’t. No pressure Whatever I do, I have to get out of this chair for a while every day, because it’s dragging me down. Thanks for the advice, though. I wish I could do more. My friend Bob is egging me on to learn C#, so I’m doing that, albeit slowly. Still stuck in loops, literally. Mostly do…while loops.

There are several looping constructs for a reason. If you don’t like one, use one of the others. I mostly use for loops and while loops. The do…while will just execute the body of the loop at least once before the while condition is checked. // this will execute the body of the loop i = 5; do { j = i * 2; i++; } while ( i < 2);

or // this will not execute the body of the loop i = 5; while (i < 2) { j = i * 2; i++; } Then it’s a boring chapter on operators, most of which I already know. Then it’s the really hard stuff: objects, methods, and classes, which somewhat mystify me. I know how they *work*, but not how I would implement them in a program. I mean, I can construct my own type, but why would I?

Once you create more advanced programs, you will see the need for creating your own objects. For example, say you want to represent a customer. You can create a customer object that knows how to handle all the specifics of a customer. This is a simplified class/object. Once you learn more advanced object constructs, you would used properties, constructors, etc. class Customer { protected string custName = ""; protected string custAddr = ""; public void InitializeCustomerData(int custID) { // do code here to initiaize customer data like // connect to a database, etc. } }

Now your program can just work with this Customer object any time it needs to work with a "customer". An object is really just a tidy way to package up common functionality and traits of a "thing" to make it easier to work with that "thing". I’m so depressed. I sit and listen to Air America radio for hours, and then get even more depressed, because there’s nothing I can do to help this world, other than my books site, which helps this planet’s inhabitants about as much as burping on the sidewalk. Probably less. By burping on the sidewalk, I’m helping to add nutrients to the atmosphere. <sigh

Don’t think you have to "help" the world to have purpose. All humans take more from the world then they ever give back. It is just part of survival. Think of how much food, wood, energy, etc the average person uses during their lifetime. It adds up to a lot of resources that all of us use and none of us ever give back an equal amount. The best you can do is to just do the best with the hand you have been dealt. Think of how many people on this list you have helped by just writing something funny or witty. Making someone smile, laugh or just think is a Good Thing(tm) in my book. ;-) Jim — _|/_ (o o) | You roll an 18 in Dex and see if you | | don’t end up with a girlfriend | | JimD – Central FL, USA, Earth, Sol | — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

I don`t know whether you are able to work or not. Only you can answer that.

I talked to God about this last night. (It was my one moment of emotional peace and quiet.) I just can’t work. Just because I do absolutely zero all day long doesn’t mean I’m lazy or anything. I’m in a lot of pain, and every day is a real struggle. I really hate living. Well, not living, but living on Earth, in this day and age. I keep thinking if I find a great woman, that’ll make things better, but seeing as I’m one step above bed-ridden, I have nothing to offer these potential Aphrodites, other than love, which isn’t enough. I don’t want to lower my standards, which are high, but then I sort of have to, because there aren’t any takers. So salvation through love is out. There’s my writing, but I don’t know what to write about. I’ve been in writer’s block since my teens. I want to write a great novel, and don’t have the skills. I should write every day to improve them, but I absolutely detest my own work. There’s always something wrong with it. It’s like I want to write without having a voice, but that’s impossible. OTOH, there is a voice in me, that I can’t find, and thus can’t express myself, because I’m worried that all I really have to say is a big, 64 pt swear word, with lots of exclamation points. Then there’s money. I have none of that, and as long as I can get some food in me every day, that’s fine … but all I do is spend my money on food. About all of it, actually, minus bills. Food is so damned expensive, and I’m *way* below the poverty line here on disability. What if I could afford a car? What if I could afford a house? What if I could afford to travel? You know. Stuff like that. Plus, I would be able to bring something to the Aphroditic table, as it were, and some wonderful soul of a woman would take me home with her, or rather let me take her to my own palatial, um, palace, because that’s what everyone wants. Or sort of. What does all this mean? There is no hope. My only hope is to get a grant from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, to sit and do nothing. Or else get put on medical marijuana for life, and sit here, do nothing, and just laugh about it. But neither of those things are going to happen, despite Bill having gotten $37bn for his foundation from William Buffet today, considered the largest single donation in American history. That was the high point of my day, actually, to see such a wonderful thing in the news. Not because I’d get even a cent of that money, but because it meant that somewhere on this planet there was righteousness, mercy, love. If the world felt better, I would feel better. But this world is full of violence and hatred, prejudice, poverty, and overall terrible suffering … which seems to send its painful vibes my way. Oy vey, what can be done? Nothing, I guess. Sorry to have rambled. You can tell I’m lonely for talk, and could rattle on like this for two more screens. Hope you’re well, and thanks for listening. Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

Find something small you can volunteer your time to. Even if it is 1 hour a day or 1 hour every other day. It will still give you something to focus your energies on.

Hi Jim. I have my books site, and I do need to get back to it. I was helping out at Distributed Proofreaders for a while, but that got to be pretty stressful. Pretty much everything stresses me out. I have to update my books site RSS feed every day, and that’s stressful, even though it takes about two minutes. I hate knowing I *have* to do it. Whatever I do, I have to get out of this chair for a while every day, because it’s dragging me down. Thanks for the advice, though. I wish I could do more. My friend Bob is egging me on to learn C#, so I’m doing that, albeit slowly. Still stuck in loops, literally. Mostly do…while loops. Then it’s a boring chapter on operators, most of which I already know. Then it’s the really hard stuff: objects, methods, and classes, which somewhat mystify me. I know how they *work*, but not how I would implement them in a program. I mean, I can construct my own type, but why would I? My programs, up to this point, look like: What does Bob do? <Bob will type in something like "sleep" No, that’s not what Bob does. What does Bob do? <finally, after many attempts, he knows what the answer is anyway, so he types in "rocks" Yes, that is what Bob does. That’s my most advanced console application. It’s about ten lines long, one while loop, a couple variables, a couple WriteLine and ReadLine, and that’s it. I’m so depressed. I sit and listen to Air America radio for hours, and then get even more depressed, because there’s nothing I can do to help this world, other than my books site, which helps this planet’s inhabitants about as much as burping on the sidewalk. Probably less. By burping on the sidewalk, I’m helping to add nutrients to the atmosphere. <sigh Anyway, hope you’re well, Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

<gently snipped ::I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out of this chair, because the ::pain I feel is non-stop. I’m constantly exhausted. Right now I feel ::like I can’t even write this, yet I can’t sleep, I can’t make coffee, ::I can’t write, I can’t listen to music. When you can’t even muster the ::strength to *sit down and entertain yourself* that’s exhaustion. ::That’s where I’m at, and where I’ve been at for yrs. I hope someone ::out there knows what the hell I’m talking about. I’m drained, and ::there isn’t much hope, but I’m going to keep on pushing anyway, on the ::off-chance that I get out of this. Dear Ian, John was wrong. While I strongly believe that if one can work, even with a mental or physical disability, one should do so. I also believe that some people cannot work. There have been many times during my long battle with panic disorder that I could not have worked. You could have put a gun to my head…..and I would have taken the bullet instead of walking out my front door and forcing myself to work. Today, I can work. Sometimes it is hard though. Yesterday was not a good day. I kept asking myself what the fick did I get myself into Today I was thankful I could work. LOL! I don`t know whether you are able to work or not. Only you can answer that. If a part of you feels like it would like to give employment a try, then go for it. You are NOT weak at all. It takes a lot of courage…. and a lot of work to get through yet another day. But you always do. Instead of focusing on what you aren`t able to do, focus on what you do accomplish everyday. I hope you are feeling better today! (((((Ian))))) Jackie ~*~It takes a real storm in the average person’s life to make him realize how much worrying he has done over the squalls~*~ ~ Bruce Fairchild Barton — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

I know how you feel. When you are that exhausted the only thing to do is sleep. If you are so tired you can’t even sleep then it’s time for some sleepy-time drugs! A couple of days/weeks of taking it super-easy and you’ll bounce back again. I’ve been out of work for 4 years and it sucks – but at least I get to live life at my own pace. I wouldn’t worry too much about that as it is par for the course with this type of condition. When you are disabled you have to expect your body to be a bit screwy now and then. Don’t forget, we are always here for you, so keep posting as long as you have enough energy left to bounce your crazy fingers up and down on the keyboard! — _TJ_ <TJ_IREL at YAHOO dot IE – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Some of you may know my old friend John. Well, actually, that’s not true. None of you do. We had an eventful last night as friends. He hit on me in a very forceful manner, which I won’t describe, and I told him I was going on disability (this was in ‘94). He got very angry, and told me I’d get fat and sit around all the time. Well, I never heard from him after that. My not wanting to sleep with a guy pretty much sealed that door. But he was right about the disability. I’m weak, folks. I’m weak. Not mentally. I’m very strong mentally. I’m very strong in my beliefs and convictions, and my knowledge. Sitting in front of the computer 24/7 for years has taught me more than 6 yrs of the nightmare that was college ever could. But I’m physically weak, and I’m emotionally weak, and that means I can’t get a job. It may not be fair. I was working right up to the point I got on disability. True, I called in sick a lot, and hated every second of it, but most minimum wage workers feel the same way about *their* jobs. But I found out that being psychotic, I could get on disability, and sure enough it was as easy as filling out the forms. Being in a few psych wards kind of greases the skids there. John was right. Disability weakened me. It gave me the time off to mature as a person, which has pretty much saved my life. In 1995 I had my stomach pumped three times because of pill overdoses, I was in jail, in two psych wards, in a group home, and all immediately after leaving college with *one class to go* because I had spent my rent money on drugs. If I hadn’t had the time to reassess my situation, I would be dead today. None of you would be reading this (and, as far as I know, none of you are). What am I saying? The mind wanders. I guess it’s 2.30 am, no one’s up to talk to, I’m dying to unload, and so once again I write what someone on here called horseshit, but hey, those horses have to shit sometimes. I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out of this chair, because the pain I feel is non-stop. I’m constantly exhausted. Right now I feel like I can’t even write this, yet I can’t sleep, I can’t make coffee, I can’t write, I can’t listen to music. When you can’t even muster the strength to *sit down and entertain yourself* that’s exhaustion. That’s where I’m at, and where I’ve been at for yrs. I hope someone out there knows what the hell I’m talking about. I’m drained, and there isn’t much hope, but I’m going to keep on pushing anyway, on the off-chance that I get out of this. Thanks for listening, ASAPM, yet again. Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

– The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

Living with depressed humans would be a complete waste of time if it weren’t for the food and the head scratching.

Yeah, I know, and I’m going back to sleep, and probably won’t feed her her Fancy Feast until I wake up, which drives her nuts. She’s addicted to that stuff. Lots of fat and protein, designed, it would seem, for the sole purpose of driving cats insane with desire for it. It’s after 4 — maybe I’ll try to get some sleep. I hope you’re doing the same.

Yeah, I just konked out very suddenly. I’m so glad I don’t suffer from insomnia. I can’t sleep on a schedule, but when I’m finally sleepy, I just lay down and bam, I’m asleep. Hope you’re doin’ well, Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

<snip Hi Ian, I know exactly what it’s like to sit around and get fat. I’ve been trying various part time jobs lately. Hopefully I can find something that I’m both physically and mentally able to do. Hauling cement block and mud has proved to be too much in the heat. I was hoping the hard work would help me loose weight, but the summer sun is simply too much for me. I just picked up an application at a smaller grocery store. I’m not sure what I’d like to do though. Every job there that I can think of gives me anxiety just thinking about it. What kind of jobs do you think of when daydreaming about joining the workforce? Maybe I should just go for cart pusher? (buggies to those in the old land, and those down south like me.) Tony — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Some of you may know my old friend John. Well, actually, that’s not true. None of you do. We had an eventful last night as friends. He hit on me in a very forceful manner, which I won’t describe, and I told him I was going on disability (this was in ‘94). He got very angry, and told me I’d get fat and sit around all the time. Well, I never heard from him after that. My not wanting to sleep with a guy pretty much sealed that door. But he was right about the disability. I’m weak, folks. I’m weak. Not mentally. I’m very strong mentally. I’m very strong in my beliefs and convictions, and my knowledge. Sitting in front of the computer 24/7 for years has taught me more than 6 yrs of the nightmare that was college ever could. But I’m physically weak, and I’m emotionally weak, and that means I can’t get a job. It may not be fair. I was working right up to the point I got on disability. True, I called in sick a lot, and hated every second of it, but most minimum wage workers feel the same way about *their* jobs. But I found out that being psychotic, I could get on disability, and sure enough it was as easy as filling out the forms. Being in a few psych wards kind of greases the skids there. John was right. Disability weakened me. It gave me the time off to mature as a person, which has pretty much saved my life. In 1995 I had my stomach pumped three times because of pill overdoses, I was in jail, in two psych wards, in a group home, and all immediately after leaving college with *one class to go* because I had spent my rent money on drugs. If I hadn’t had the time to reassess my situation, I would be dead today. None of you would be reading this (and, as far as I know, none of you are). What am I saying? The mind wanders. I guess it’s 2.30 am, no one’s up to talk to, I’m dying to unload, and so once again I write what someone on here called horseshit, but hey, those horses have to shit sometimes. I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out of this chair, because the pain I feel is non-stop. I’m constantly exhausted. Right now I feel like I can’t even write this, yet I can’t sleep, I can’t make coffee, I can’t write, I can’t listen to music. When you can’t even muster the strength to *sit down and entertain yourself* that’s exhaustion. That’s where I’m at, and where I’ve been at for yrs. I hope someone out there knows what the hell I’m talking about. I’m drained, and there isn’t much hope, but I’m going to keep on pushing anyway, on the off-chance that I get out of this. Thanks for listening, ASAPM, yet again. Ian —

Ian, I haven’t read any answers you have gotten. This is coming from my heart. He obviously is not your friend. It’s horrible when a friend hits on you and then gets mad. That leaves you feeling so empty and lost. He is not worth it, apparently. I hope I am not stepping on your toes. I have no idea what your sexual orientation is and I don’t, care, cause it doesn’t matter. I am so sorry your friend did this to you. He should be ashamed. I truly hope you are not. You are a very kind and wonderful person.’ Vicki — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

Wishing you only the best…

Thanks, Elise. Maybe it’s time to try and break out of the rut. Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

Hi, Ian, Maybe it’s time for you to do some self reflection on your own life. Answer the questions you have put into the email. Maybe going back into the work world wouldn’t be good for you or maybe it would be a new beginning for you. Wishing you only the best… smiles, Elise

– The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

Some of you may know my old friend John. Well, actually, that’s not true. None of you do. We had an eventful last night as friends. He hit on me in a very forceful manner, which I won’t describe, and I told him I was going on disability (this was in ‘94). He got very angry, and told me I’d get fat and sit around all the time. Well, I never heard from him after that. My not wanting to sleep with a guy pretty much sealed that door. But he was right about the disability. I’m weak, folks. I’m weak. Not mentally. I’m very strong mentally. I’m very strong in my beliefs and convictions, and my knowledge. Sitting in front of the computer 24/7 for years has taught me more than 6 yrs of the nightmare that was college ever could. But I’m physically weak, and I’m emotionally weak, and that means I can’t get a job. It may not be fair. I was working right up to the point I got on disability. True, I called in sick a lot, and hated every second of it, but most minimum wage workers feel the same way about *their* jobs. But I found out that being psychotic, I could get on disability, and sure enough it was as easy as filling out the forms. Being in a few psych wards kind of greases the skids there. John was right. Disability weakened me. It gave me the time off to mature as a person, which has pretty much saved my life. In 1995 I had my stomach pumped three times because of pill overdoses, I was in jail, in two psych wards, in a group home, and all immediately after leaving college with *one class to go* because I had spent my rent money on drugs. If I hadn’t had the time to reassess my situation, I would be dead today. None of you would be reading this (and, as far as I know, none of you are). What am I saying? The mind wanders. I guess it’s 2.30 am, no one’s up to talk to, I’m dying to unload, and so once again I write what someone on here called horseshit, but hey, those horses have to shit sometimes. I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out of this chair, because the pain I feel is non-stop. I’m constantly exhausted. Right now I feel like I can’t even write this, yet I can’t sleep, I can’t make coffee, I can’t write, I can’t listen to music. When you can’t even muster the strength to *sit down and entertain yourself* that’s exhaustion. That’s where I’m at, and where I’ve been at for yrs. I hope someone out there knows what the hell I’m talking about. I’m drained, and there isn’t much hope, but I’m going to keep on pushing anyway, on the off-chance that I get out of this. Thanks for listening, ASAPM, yet again. Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

I dont think the term "you need a good kick up the ass " is sutable advice for any one to give to anyone else,but when you are alone in your own hell you have to decide how much is your doing .Life can be far better than it is now if you try real hard,and it is really worth it ,you can get there but it will cost you your current comfort zone if you can call it that ,so why dont you tell your self what you need yourself .We can all help you on this journey,but you have to put in the hard work yourself .I pass on all the strength I can use it wisely — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

I didn’t see any horseshit here. There are approximately 20 places in this post where I could write "me too", but that’s really boring, so I’ll just say it once. Me too. Before I forget — Bert wants Tennis Ball to know he feels his pain. Living with depressed humans would be a complete waste of time if it weren’t for the food and the head scratching. It’s after 4 — maybe I’ll try to get some sleep. I hope you’re doing the same. Deirdre – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Some of you may know my old friend John. Well, actually, that’s not true. None of you do. We had an eventful last night as friends. He hit on me in a very forceful manner, which I won’t describe, and I told him I was going on disability (this was in ‘94). He got very angry, and told me I’d get fat and sit around all the time. Well, I never heard from him after that. My not wanting to sleep with a guy pretty much sealed that door. But he was right about the disability. I’m weak, folks. I’m weak. Not mentally. I’m very strong mentally. I’m very strong in my beliefs and convictions, and my knowledge. Sitting in front of the computer 24/7 for years has taught me more than 6 yrs of the nightmare that was college ever could. But I’m physically weak, and I’m emotionally weak, and that means I can’t get a job. It may not be fair. I was working right up to the point I got on disability. True, I called in sick a lot, and hated every second of it, but most minimum wage workers feel the same way about *their* jobs. But I found out that being psychotic, I could get on disability, and sure enough it was as easy as filling out the forms. Being in a few psych wards kind of greases the skids there. John was right. Disability weakened me. It gave me the time off to mature as a person, which has pretty much saved my life. In 1995 I had my stomach pumped three times because of pill overdoses, I was in jail, in two psych wards, in a group home, and all immediately after leaving college with *one class to go* because I had spent my rent money on drugs. If I hadn’t had the time to reassess my situation, I would be dead today. None of you would be reading this (and, as far as I know, none of you are). What am I saying? The mind wanders. I guess it’s 2.30 am, no one’s up to talk to, I’m dying to unload, and so once again I write what someone on here called horseshit, but hey, those horses have to shit sometimes. I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out of this chair, because the pain I feel is non-stop. I’m constantly exhausted. Right now I feel like I can’t even write this, yet I can’t sleep, I can’t make coffee, I can’t write, I can’t listen to music. When you can’t even muster the strength to *sit down and entertain yourself* that’s exhaustion. That’s where I’m at, and where I’ve been at for yrs. I hope someone out there knows what the hell I’m talking about. I’m drained, and there isn’t much hope, but I’m going to keep on pushing anyway, on the off-chance that I get out of this. Thanks for listening, ASAPM, yet again. Ian

– The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

Response:

you can get there but it will cost you your current comfort zone

You know, one of the wisest things a psychologist ever told me was, "Try to stay as uncomfortable as possible." This really works, but it’s hard to keep up. The comfort zone is a defense mechanism, and these things, while always well-intentioned, rarely help out in the long run. My defense mechanism is to flee from reality, and if I hurt, I don’t move. It’s important to remember that it won’t hurt that much more if I *do* move, and moving tends to lead to accomplishment, while not moving tends to lead to failure. I’m totally with you on this, and I hope I never receive the metaphorical kick in the ass, because that might involve eviction or loss of benefits, and that would lead me to an edgy situation, wherein I teetered between suicide and accomplishment. I’m trying to find the easier, softer way, as they say in AA, and so far no luck. I will try to stay uncomfortable. Hope you’re well, Ian — I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just gonna ask where they’re goin’, and hook up with ‘em later. (Mitch Hedburg) http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm

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