I didn’t figure out my passion or what may bring me the most joy until well into age 27. Looking back on the stress of 18-26, it would have made no sense for me to settle into anything else and I wouldn’t have been ready to settle into what I love back then either. Some of us “bloom” later. Have compassion and patience with yourself, but be proactive.
I’m honestly too insecure for this. I can’t do it anymore. My head is so against me. My heart is tired. I want to be better, I want to be happy. I was robbed of so much because of shitty experiences and the MOMENT the smallest hint of my fear came into play, I got thrusted back into the most toxic headspace of my life. It’s torturous to keep trying to fight myself and I’m losing. No matter what. Nothing is good enough. I’m going to lose the best relationship I’ve had because of fear. Because of trauma. Because of insecurities. If I don’t get a grip soon, I’m going to lose so much more. I don’t know if anyone believes me when I say how tired I am. How small I view myself. How insignificant I feel. How much of a burden I know I am. I’m in so much pain almost constantly. If there is a God, he would release me from my suffering. I promise I’m trying so hard. I just can’t win. I can’t do it anymore.
Seriously what is wrong with me that I feel like every single day I’ve been here it’s been something????? I can’t believe I’m right or justified in any of my feelings. I’m meant to die alone. I’m meant to just give up now. My mind is too fucked up. I’m toxic. My heart is too fragile. Broken beyond repair. No one deserves the bullshit I inflict on them. Why can’t I just get it right. I hate myself. I hate being alive. It’s just not worth it anymore. There’s something too wrong with me.
At this point there’s no excuse for a baby boomer to be technologically incompetent anymore. It’s just willful ignorance, this shit is not fucking hard
“why is it asking for a password” because you’re logging into something martha, that’s how it’s been for the last 20 fucking years
“how do i do [x] can you show me” no dale you can Google it like the rest of us. it requires one exposure to the concept of googling to understand how it works. your generation was smart enough to cause a total economic collapse out of malice but not smart enough to type in a few words I guess
“im just not tech savvy” no you just refuse to learn because like in most things you are stuck in your ways
the worst part is after you help an old fuck with some sort of tech bullshit 9 times out of 10 they’ll give you some kind of bullshit passive aggressive thank-you
like “oh i guess you young people have to know something about those phones you’re always on, huh?”
give me a fucking break gretchen i have depression from living in the economy you created and my phone is more of a reprieve than dealing with your stubborn inconsiderate ass
AND ANOTHER THING that just gets my blood boiling is their ability to get into their settings, completely fuck things up, and then manage to develop total amnesia about how it happened
what do you mean you set your phone to japanese on accident, phil? there’s like 15 separate menus you have to navigate through to get there
“i think it’s because i got a virus” no greg it’s not a virus, the only viruses here are your rampant stupidity and the deadly pathogens carried by your unvaccinated grandchildren
i just absolutely loathe that the people who decide if women should be executed for having abortions or not are the same people who can’t figure out how to work a blu-ray player with the instructions in front of them
… men act and women appear. Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at. This determines not only most relations between men and women but also the relation of women to themselves. The surveyor of woman in herself is male; the surveyed female. Thus she turns herself into an object—and most particularly an object of vision: a sight.
