How are you feeling?

Graeme1988

Hie yer hence from me heath!
Ma surgery pains are startin' tae subside, finally. Which is relief.

Just don't know if anybuddy here wantS to hear sboot 6 day stay in ma local hospital?

Ah fear you'd just get bored uh me, like folk sometimes do. :sad:
 
I wonder what that person in the Starbucks would say if they knew that asking for that coffee would be the only time my voice would be used in 36hours...48hrs maybe. 6 words
 

Megaten

Well-known member
Physically ill. I have that stupid topic I have to teach for 10 mins tomorrow morning. Its just 10 mins but a lot of bad can happen during that time. Its making it so I cant focus on my damn studies. I hate that they keep forcing us to do presentations. I came into this field to avoid things like that.
 

MollyBeGood

Well-known member
Feel like its pointless going on. Was fine 2 days ago, now i feel my heart is breaking for no reason.

It's The Yo Yo-Roller Coaster our minds like to put us on. The older I get the less serious I let it effect me...Though sometimes, DAMN, it's a real and true demon from the pit of hell. Even demons need love? :question:
 

GraybeardGhost

Well-known member
I'm worried. I'm worried about money, I'm worried about food, and I'm worried how I'm going to face the world again after weeks of forced seclusion. I'm worried about my health—all the little issues that creep up on one with age, and a few particular pests that seem specific to my rotting corpse. I'm worried about my insurance because I suspect it's crap, and I'm worried about having to visit doctors because they scare me to death. I'm worried that I may be evermore alone, without love or friendship (in real life, at least), with no one to turn to for help should I need it or comfort when the nights turn cold. I'm worried that I may never be able to have a place of my own, to live apart with only peace and quiet as my neighbors, that my fear and self-disgust will trap me here in rented hell forever.

To worry is to scry the future in a cracked and clouded crystal ball. You can't see clearly through all the faults and flaws, and it wouldn't work even if you could. I have one in the other room: a hefty chunk of amethyst polished to a sphere. Can't see a damn thing in it—just misty swirls and fractures bending and reflecting light. My future is a purple haze, it seems to say. Tea leaves, Tarot cards, the entrails of a dove would say the same. To worry is to look ahead to what cannot be seen, and to see it anyway, and in the worst imaginable light. To do so doesn't make a lot of sense.

And yet I do. I worry about this, and I worry about that. I waste dreadful amounts of time with worry—hours and days of it—time that could be far better spent. I could be getting so much done. I could be taking steps, making plans, looking up, finding out, calling, writing to, and so on, building a foundation one precisely hewn stone at a time. But instead I sit in my darkened room and gaze into my crystal ball where nothing good to come is ever seen. I'm a little worried about that.
 

Graeme1988

Hie yer hence from me heath!
Who cares...? :sad: No-one in real life takes my concerns and fears seriously, anyway. So why should I bother doing the same? My problems are just a joke to anyone I try to explain them to outside this site.

Really wish my dad were still alive today to offer some words of encouragement and a bit of reassurance to me right now. :crying: Cannae take much mair of this constant worrying over summit that should be a change for the better.

Yet I feel afraid, doubtful and empty.
 

MollyBeGood

Well-known member
I'm worried. I'm worried about money, I'm worried about food, and I'm worried how I'm going to face the world again after weeks of forced seclusion. I'm worried about my health—all the little issues that creep up on one with age, and a few particular pests that seem specific to my rotting corpse. I'm worried about my insurance because I suspect it's crap, and I'm worried about having to visit doctors because they scare me to death. I'm worried that I may be evermore alone, without love or friendship (in real life, at least), with no one to turn to for help should I need it or comfort when the nights turn cold. I'm worried that I may never be able to have a place of my own, to live apart with only peace and quiet as my neighbors, that my fear and self-disgust will trap me here in rented hell forever.

To worry is to scry the future in a cracked and clouded crystal ball. You can't see clearly through all the faults and flaws, and it wouldn't work even if you could. I have one in the other room: a hefty chunk of amethyst polished to a sphere. Can't see a damn thing in it—just misty swirls and fractures bending and reflecting light. My future is a purple haze, it seems to say. Tea leaves, Tarot cards, the entrails of a dove would say the same. To worry is to look ahead to what cannot be seen, and to see it anyway, and in the worst imaginable light. To do so doesn't make a lot of sense.

And yet I do. I worry about this, and I worry about that. I waste dreadful amounts of time with worry—hours and days of it—time that could be far better spent. I could be getting so much done. I could be taking steps, making plans, looking up, finding out, calling, writing to, and so on, building a foundation one precisely hewn stone at a time. But instead I sit in my darkened room and gaze into my crystal ball where nothing good to come is ever seen. I'm a little worried about that.

This reads like a page from a novel I would like not to put down. You write so eloquently about things like "Worrying" I know you are in pain and I am in no way trying to minimize that fact, but damn you should be an writer!

It's such a dreadful disease of the mind to be a worrier. Do you know some people don't worry much at all? I found out that my ability to worry supersedes most normal people recently-it has taken me a really long time to find this out. I had no idea I was unique in this affliction. It is absolutely a life killer.

My only real way to deal is to completely shut down my mind. I wish I could say I meditate and that helps, because i don't. I sleep for hrs to keep from dealing with it. That has been the only escape for me. I also have taken on a more Fuk It attitude with most everything. I have to really do that in order to function otherwise the worry takes over my mind and makes me literally immobile.

Add depression and anxiety and I really wish someone would put me out of my misery most days.

I think it's genetic to be a Worrier. My mom is big-time and I know that she caused me to be environmentally and genetically.

I am sorry you have it too. :sad: I know having a pet ca be a huge help in calming people like us. Maybe get a cat or dog?
 

Graeme1988

Hie yer hence from me heath!
Still pissed about last night. Me, ma mum an sister hud an argument over how a chair should be sittin' in case ma phone, iPod ans tissues feel of it. An am like "So? They'll just faw oan tha flair" :eek:h:

This is that kinda shite ah've to tolerate folk... :thumbdown:
 

Graeme1988

Hie yer hence from me heath!
Ah don't know... Kinda wish ah wus smarter, funnier, and mair confident an assertive in masel'. :sad:

Bored oot ma mind bieng stuck in the living room. Want to be upstair in ma room playin' ma guitar.

Also, nae physiotherapist has been oot tae see how ah've been doing since ah wus discharged from hospital a few weeks ago.

Huvin a bit uh déjà vu from my Edinburgh Hospital experience when ah wus 14, it too physios weeks ro come oot an see me. :sad:

And they reassured me this time roon would be different.
 

GraybeardGhost

Well-known member
This reads like a page from a novel I would like not to put down. You write so eloquently about things like "Worrying" I know you are in pain and I am in no way trying to minimize that fact, but damn you should be an writer!

It's such a dreadful disease of the mind to be a worrier. Do you know some people don't worry much at all? I found out that my ability to worry supersedes most normal people recently-it has taken me a really long time to find this out. I had no idea I was unique in this affliction. It is absolutely a life killer.

My only real way to deal is to completely shut down my mind. I wish I could say I meditate and that helps, because i don't. I sleep for hrs to keep from dealing with it. That has been the only escape for me. I also have taken on a more Fuk It attitude with most everything. I have to really do that in order to function otherwise the worry takes over my mind and makes me literally immobile.

Add depression and anxiety and I really wish someone would put me out of my misery most days.

I think it's genetic to be a Worrier. My mom is big-time and I know that she caused me to be environmentally and genetically.

I am sorry you have it too. :sad: I know having a pet ca be a huge help in calming people like us. Maybe get a cat or dog?

Hush, Molly, you're gonna make me :blushing:, but thank you. :)

At the risk of contradicting my earlier post, I do think worrying in moderation is an important element of the human psyche. If we don't worry about the future at least to some extent, and make plans accordingly, if we play the grasshopper and not the ant, we'll suffer for it when winter comes, whether literally or in a more figurative sense.

Some worries are legitimate—
Do I have enough money for retirement?
Do I have enough food to last me through the coming snowstorm?
What is this thing hugging my face, and why is its tail wrapped around my neck?
—but even these can be inflated to grotesque proportions by an over-active and pessimistic mind. The goal I suppose, is to find a method and a state of mind to consider these questions calmly and rationally, and to follow them to a reasonable answer. And then let go. Otherwise, you're taking a long walk off a short pier, and you're not going to get anything from it but wet. The Serenity Prayer recited in every twelve-step meeting ever sums this up pretty well: serenity, courage, wisdom. All good things to have, but not always easy to find. So far, I haven't seen them on the shelves at Walmart.

Buddhists seem to have a handle on this stuff. I have an acquaintance on another site who often quotes Thích Nhất Hạnh. The guy makes a lot of sense sometimes, but I haven't explored his philosophy any further. Maybe I should. :thinking:

I've tried meditation, too, a couple of times. I took a class in college, but I didn't do very well. Too much chatter in my head, too many voices and nobody in charge. I guess it takes time, of which I have plenty, but I expect it also requires a certain peaceful solitude as well, a silence on the outside to foster silence within. That's something I haven't enjoyed for many years.

So I ask my questions, and I find my answers if I can, but then I continue to worry past the logical conclusion:
Do I have enough money for retirement? Probably, but . . .
Do I have enough food to last out the storm? Certainly, but . . .
What is this frightening thing on my face? It's only a beard (I think), but . . .​
Question, answer, worry. It's those big buts that get me every time.
 

Graeme1988

Hie yer hence from me heath!
The world can be a lonely place when you're me. :alone:

Aye, and me anaw. :sad:

Home from hospital 2 weeks noo. Getting better slowly. But am fed up being in the living room aw tha time. Also, dinnae like relying oan others much nowadays. Am no a we bairn any air. Ken whit ah mean?

Also huvin tae compromise fur ma mum & sister who think they know f***in' and whit's best fur me is pissing me off. Don't ye jist hate overbearin' bitches like that?

The lack of privacy is gittin' on ma tits, too. :thumbdown:

Am still haunted by ma mental near week long stay in hospital. :sad:
 
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