Quote from: E on December 12, 2020, 05:27:14 AM

Not a good way to do it, but it worked, I guess. If I had no other options, would've done it again. I'd owe Verbatim an apology though. "I" talked to him a fair bit before being deceased. Fact was, Quiet had my account logins. Did all the writing for me. He needed some company too. I wasn't there all the time for him since I was trying to help cover his medical expenses. No Tru, not good, nor interesting.

So wait

Would it mean that a fair bit of my interactions with you was actually with him?

Decent chance, yes. The man was a master mimic both in writing and voice acting. Could've been a voice actor. Probably helped that he knew me so well though. As I told Verb though. I know I'm missing shit. I could try to verify whom was whom for you, but I don't know to what extent.

IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO LOOK INWARD AND START ASKING YOURSELF THE BIG QUESTION: WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?

Quote from: E on December 12, 2020, 10:51:49 PM

IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO LOOK INWARD AND START ASKING YOURSELF THE BIG QUESTION: WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?

legend post

Quote from: DAS B00T x2 on December 12, 2020, 01:10:13 PM

Quote from: E on December 12, 2020, 05:27:14 AM

Not a good way to do it, but it worked, I guess. If I had no other options, would've done it again. I'd owe Verbatim an apology though. "I" talked to him a fair bit before being deceased. Fact was, Quiet had my account logins. Did all the writing for me. He needed some company too. I wasn't there all the time for him since I was trying to help cover his medical expenses. No Tru, not good, nor interesting.

So wait

Would it mean that a fair bit of my interactions with you was actually with him?

Decent chance, yes. The man was a master mimic both in writing and voice acting. Could've been a voice actor. Probably helped that he knew me so well though. As I told Verb though. I know I'm missing shit. I could try to verify whom was whom for you, but I don't know to what extent.

nah, you good man. Though I am a little curious, which of you guys was it that wrote that last batch of PM's to everyone?

All this text I skimmed through but nothing about Class ugh

I've been stalling on that. Memory's dim but you're not the person that you were when I left. I don't have any moral high ground to call you out on. But if half the rubbish you've been posting here is true since I've reappeared here, it means that in one respect we're critically different. I've been trying to repair myself and own up to all of my shit. You haven't. You've gotten worse in some respects and you dodge on account of claiming to be eccentric.

My time spent travelling has given me immense disdain for drug users, since I've had scenarios that could've ended my life as a result of being attacked by junkies. I've had to do awful things to defend myself in those situations, things I'd hoped never to do in my life. Many of the friends I've lost happened to be because of drug users.

But I know that under some circumstances, it's hard to blame a drug user, because shit affects us all in different ways. My travelling companion, Sarah. She was a drug user and yet I stayed with her even as her habits demanded more money and her addictions got worse. I stayed by her until her death. Did my best to try and help her, but there are some circles people don't have the strength to break.

Drug dealers on the other hand, if I were given a weapon or just my hands and confirmation of who they were and permission to do it, I'd kill without a second thought. Making the profit that they do on the destruction and lives they destroy directly or indirectly, warrents that their lives cease.

Besides the point. I can't read between the lines with you anymore, so I take your quirks for what they are. Signs that you can't break your respective circles and mental traps. I stay away from those people because I know how dangerous they are. They'll pull you down with them.

I've no beef with you so long as you live your life and you're content. But beyond that there's nothing else unless I see something to the contrary that marks you differently.

I mean, that's fair. But look at my Hanukkah thread. I'm progressing my life, even with the occasional delve into DXM. I haven't touched hard drugs at all and have no reason to (my bf would kill me if I did anyway lol) so yeah. I'm not really the person you think I am. I'm sorry you've had such a hard life, sincerely. I wish that I could've helped you.

I mean, that's fair. But look at my Hanukkah thread. I'm progressing my life, even with the occasional delve into DXM. I haven't touched hard drugs at all and have no reason to (my bf would kill me if I did anyway lol) so yeah. I'm not really the person you think I am. I'm sorry you've had such a hard life, sincerely. I wish that I could've helped you.

Don't jump on that wishing to have helped train. Goes nowhere. I left because I was the only one who could help myself. You read these?

C-PTSD
Severe long term depression
Acute trauma or what they'd nickname a "moral wound"
Emotional Numbness/Distancing
Low levels of dissociative disorder

None of you here could have helped me with any of that. And wishing doesn't get anybody very far other than pleasant sentiment. Clearly I'm not foolproof in my judgements and because of the way I am now I usually backtrack a lot to verify if I'm right and not fooling myself. Don't bother feeling sorry for me because it wastes time and accomplishes nothing. At any rate, just live your life, be happy, and do your best not to fuck other people's lives up. We can be square at that rate.

Verb. I know you don't like quote trains. But you put the honest statement to words about trustworthyness on my part. Nuka's been doing some digging and asked me about the tumor. It stretches backwards to about 2014. My memories are extremely dim that far back, but I can tell you what I know for absolute certainty in the name of transparancy and to correct things.

The tumor was probably my first unassisted attempt to create distance. Tumor was not real but there was a lot of concern about brain clots since my vitals were massively erratic.  I was going through major health issues during the time, same as I am now, being my weakened heart. But I was cracking apart mentally. My SO died when I was twenty, so if that puts my math right, she died either in 2012, or 2013. I took more hits and losses as other people died as well.

As I'd discussed in great detail with docs, and my brother in law when I eventually opened up to him. I was exposed to death very early on in childhood. Several incidents that left their mark. The problem was that it kept happening to me. I think for perhaps every year of my life there's been a death. When Melissa died, it shattered me inside. And death kept happening. I responded worse and worse, since now all of that pain was linked.

As I've said within the thread. Immense trauma, to the extent that it warps my memories and destroyed my personality piece by piece in combination with the other baggage. I did not have the actual physical capacity to cry out for help after Melissa died, and I tried to write, but I couldn't take the pain or the stress. I knew that I was fucked back then too, so in my own way I was trying what I could to unfuck myself.

Memories past a certain point are very hard for me to remember. It's because I know that on some level my mind's blocked a lot of the worse events in my life. And I think, because there's so much that's happened. I've lifetimes of experiences crammed into only 28 years. It's like trying to wade through an explosion. This is then, another ghost we can put to rest, partially. At least have it out in the open.

Quote from: Aether on December 09, 2020, 03:32:03 PM

Wanted to mention you, but you've shown no questions nor grievances. It's nice to see you again, even if I can't remember fuck all. Glad you're still doing art. And I saw at one point that you listened to Ozric. Here I thought I was the only one.

I don't really let things on the net get to me that much. I have more pressing irl problems to worry about. Though, it is a little sad that I haven't really become very close with anyone from here or any other forum I've frequented due to avoiding getting very emotionally invested.

I've listened to Ozric Tentacles for years. My dad used to play them when I was a kid back in his jam band days.

Quote from: E on December 13, 2020, 09:41:29 AM

I wish I'd never done it all. I know your name and I know that it's got pleasant connotation to it, but I don't have any real concrete instances of conversations in memory. How did I hurt you?(apart from the obvious)

Not that you had any control or awareness of this, but I had a friend pass away a week before I saw the thread announcing your death.

You and I were never super close, but I did like seeing you around. It was sad to see you go and it was a pretty fucked up time for the reason mentioned above.

Even at that rate then Zonda, I am deeply as sorry that I can be for doing that to you.

Morally I broke pretty much everything I ever stood for with that act. Not excusable even in the state that I was. I've told others here, but I think it should be said. Whatever the connections were that I shared with you or others, be it friendly or just irrelevant passerby, I can't express just how much it means to recognize names here, or to see anybody here at all. That people here are still alive, or going places in their lives, or on some level that they're doing okay. I'm still trying to quantify some of the things that happened to me on my trip. The shit I saw or on some levels the shit I did to stay alive. Just that you're here, just, thank you.

You've been through a lot. Much more than I've been through.Your experiences are my fears, honestly. I just want to be safe, liked, and entertained. My biggest fear is being kidnapped and put into a cell for some sex slave dungeon for the rest of my life, where I haven't made enough connections beforehand to make people remember me or try to save me. If I don't make those connections now, if I don't make myself significant now, then I'll be just another sack of meat rotting away somewhere.

Human connections are all that matter in this world. I've used drugs to foster an ambiance of goodwill and humanity to everyone I've met. I don't do them that often these days. They were just training wheels, and now I'm good on my own.

All of this to say - people aren't just what you think of them. People will always surprise you, and they can change in miraculous ways.

I don't think that invalidates anything on your part. Saying that "you've been through more" isn't fair. There's always people who've been through more. I meet them all the time. Some less, some more, I don't think it matters really because it all amounts to being baggage for another individual. There's people who went through more than I and they did not break. I did. And I try to correct that. I met a lot of people on the road. Too much bad shit. But you see good people in equal spades too. Many of them just trying to live their lives in peace, not bothering anybody.

In the last year that I spent in Victoria before I came back here, I went for a walk in one of the less reputable parks on a rainy day. That city's had a growing problem with migrating homeless tent cities and a new drug that's emerged in the last few years. Don't remember the name. Highly potent, can kill on skin contact in any dose higher than some like 2mg.

I walked through the park and I saw this guy sleeping under a tree in a sleeping bag, all his traveling shit sprawled out around him. Homeless. But I didn't like his posture. So I checked him out and noted how pale his face was until I got closer and noted that his eyes were just open, staring out. Say something, no response. Checked his pulse, dark purple veins. I called the authorities and tried to jumpstart his heart. And I just sat there for hours in the rain, waiting. And nobody came. Of course they wouldn't. No city has an adequately staffed medical response team for that amount of people.

I just sat there with him, thinking about everything that may have led him up to that point. I thought about my travelling companion for half of my trip. My gaming buddies who started on the easy stuff, went hard, failed rehab twice, and then OD'd. Then I sat round and pondered myself. Why I seem to keep crossing paths with this. Why for whatever reasons I keep being able to stand back up and keep trying, or why I always seem to be the last person standing, like I'm just cursed or some kind of fucked up witness.

Plain reality is that it's life. Massive dynamic system in which we make choices that ripple and effect everything and everybody. It does not target people but we can roll unfair hands in our own ways. How we cope comes to be our choice if we're aware of it. You are correct in that people change.

I lost three more people this year. I did not break this time. Did what I needed to, and then I processed it and let it hit me proper. I got back here just in time to be the person that my sister and niece needed me to be when my brother in law died. He himself spent a lot of time trying to fix my sorry ass up. And for many years I neglected his help because of my solitary untrusting nature until eventually I caved and trusted him. Many mistakes made. Perhaps more on the road ahead, depending on how I fix myself. I guess it's every individual's respective torch to bear.

The connections with people are all that matters, really. Why I came back here. I still carry the connections to all the dead behind me, friends or lovers, family, random people. They have never broken even though I did. So too do I have connections here. I owe a debt for the time spent here in good company, and for what I did to those that actually cared about me.

Realizing that people care about me and feeling it are one of the emotions and things I struggle immensely with. I can do it before a few seconds before I go cold again. My significant other was the only person who was intelligent enough to rip through all of my armour and protection that I'd built up in childhood and from traumas, see who I was and light up my world.

I know that people here cared about me, and when that small doorway opens that I can register it, it burns me that I hurt them so badly. I can't undo that. But I can carry it and make sure that it does not happen again. Best I can do, even if it does not make amends.

If you have made strides, then it makes me happy to know that. Shouldn't let your fears own you, though. Fear can either be unfounded or self destructive. In some part fear is what landed me here as I am now. Too much talk though. I'll leave it for now. Just don't make the mistakes I made.

Haven't slept easy for a few years now. I talk about traumas Class. The woman in the fire that I told you about. She just hit me as I was writing to you. I'd forgotten about her, and then just like that, something triggered the memory. Couldn't sleep so I did some digging, to know if whether it was real or not. I got the stress response at least. Felt like my heart was going to explode and couldn't steady my hands. Judith Burke was her name.

https://www.cheknews.ca/coroner-confirms-death-of-woman-in-esquimalt-apartment-fire-550351/

https://www.cheknews.ca/friend-identifies-victim-of-fatal-esquimalt-apartment-fire-550812/

My older memories are more susceptible to being warped but this was fresh enough to pinpoint quickly. Sometimes things are warped and sometimes they're hidden, and they show up for me like this. When I left here all those years ago I'd have shit like this happen to me too.

That I can work through it without breaking down, that I'm able to speak about it now, at least. As I iterated more than once already. I know I'm deeply fucked. It doesn't make what I did right in any capacity. I just needed to find a way to save myself from things like this before it killed me and I made poor choices to do it.

I wasn't expecting to turn this thread into a mess for having shit bleed out of me like this. But I guess if it helps me work through some things, so be it. I just earnestly hope that in whatever way that I can, I can rectify things for the people here whom I hurt when I left.

I was thinking about what you said. Debating on PMs or here. I think I prefer here. Anybody curious enough to wander through can see if they wish. You said it was a good thing I was alive.

I know it's a terrible line of thought to travel, but a lot of times I don't think it is a good thing that I'm alive Verb. Would've been mercy if something got me out on the road. Perhaps even now. Although I have my responsibilities to attend to that I'd never abandon. Maybe if you're part wise spirtual you'd coin it as karma. I might. Paying my dues for what was done perhaps. I listed the conditions that I have elsewhere here. Endless hours dumped in with multiple proffessionals in different provinces to the same conclusions because I wanted to verify it for certain.

I'm still partially stuck in my own hell. A day is a marathon for me. I have to think constantly otherwise I count the agonizing seconds. Only benefit to that is my ability to process things, at least. It may be why my emotional responses are so stunted now. They're gone quickly. But it is hell.

I measure very carefully what I say to people, because I know how much of a maze my head is. I do in earnest value being forward and honest. But how can I do that if my own memories work against me? I've become much more open to people since I traveled, but at the same time I'm very reclusive because I don't trust myself.

The dissappointment I have when I find out that I've duped myself.... which could by extension extend to a friend or colleague that I never wanted to deceive. My sense of humor is quite active around people, but sit me in a room and I go cold. For the months that I've been working in the places that I have, all the time they ask me what's wrong when they catch me alone, because I always look so distant and concerned.

Little things out of the blue can set off memories. I could break down crying onto the floor while I stock shelves and manage freight. And I have to fight that off, stop and calm the stress response, and then question if what's hit me is real. Some days are better than others. Some days are smooth, and I feel a bit more like myself. My humor would mention karma. Biggest lie I ever told results in me coming back not knowing exactly whom I am. Humor in that. It's just. I'm sorry Verb. I mean that as much as I possibly can.

It's strange to hear that if I think about it. Wanting to do more than just live. I mean I get it. But I'm standing on the other side of the fence where most things are empty to me. And some days, for a little while, I can sit back and recognize just "living" with no extras added on. It can be amazing, actually. There's a lot of dead trees out at my property. I could use a chainsaw to cut them down, but out of principle I use an axe to do it. It's exhausting. But I need to gauge how the tree is going to fall and I've got to make the axe strikes accurate so that it falls the way I need it to. It's mundane. I think a lot of people would find it difficult, boring, pointless. Considering all the skills and strength needed to do it, I find it remarkable when I pull it off. I think there's got to be a balance to life. Recognition of what we have around us already. But enough to keep us excited so that we don't stagnate.

That woman. Terrible, yes. I think that doesn't do it justice though. I don't have a word for those screams. Probably can't black them out now that the memory's surfaced either. But I quantified it today, broke it down for what it was. I was there. I did what I could. I tried, at least, like some of the other people there. That was enough, I think. All we can do is try. But she's(theoretically) out of the picture now. No worries about being on fire. I'm still here though, carrying that. So I let those emotions hit me today. And then that's it. They hit me, and I'm here now. The trick is to look forwards and not get stuck on dwelling, which is what I did years ago when I internalized everything. I got nowhere until it all pulled me down.

I'm unsure if I expect or expected to gain anything by coming back here other than the reason to make things square for the wrong that I did. This batch of talking here is the most I've done in three years. I don't think I'll keep it up, considering how busy I am or the plans I have to work on normally. If I had to guess, when the dust settles here, and I'm done talking to the people that would like to talk to me, I'll be quieter and more of a passerby. Although there's people here I'd like to keep in touch with, only if they want to, of course.

But I think doing what I'm doing here is another small piece in putting myself back together. I don't think I could stomach putting myself back together in full years down the line and have what I did here sitting on the back of my mind. So I asked who I wanted to be, and I said that I wanted to be honest above all else.

Thanks for the offer Class. I'll keep thinking about things.

Was thinking again Class. You don't need to respond. Just...it's actually unreal when I sit back and I look at everything I've done. Not just the trash and the bad days on the road, but what I did for people. What I'm still trying to do. It's never really, truly hit me before. I don't talk about it much because it feels like bragging. It's just... surreal to stop and look at my own actions sometimes.

I probably saved a man's life in one of my jobs. A leaning double stacked pallet of freight tipped coming out of the walmart bay doors, and this little old indian guy was under it. I caught the weight long enough that he could get out and the pallets crushed me against the wall instead. Fractured about three of my ribs.

There was this woman who I met online, talked to, for quite a while. She was on the mainland of BC. Depressed, anxious, nervous. She hopped a plane to come out and see me despite how timid she was. We spent some time together, just explored the island, had fun, and parted ways. But it sparked something in her. She started travelling again, came out of her shell. Like watching somebody come alive again.

There was another woman who I met, that came from ontario. First day on the job together. I ended up giving her a hand, driving her home at night since she had no car yet, showing her the island and stuff. Helped her out with a lot of problems.

I've been talking to a guy for about two months straight now, every day and every night across the net. Over his head in debt, shit parents, degrees that didn't pay off, no hope left in him. Been keeping him stable. We've got a plan started. Get him out to where I live on the guise of vacation. Get him a work visa or immigration papers, get him out to the coast where he'll have a chance to have a life.

One of my co-workers got screwed by her ex-husband. Framed her in court to get custody of the kids. He's a psychological mess, manipulative, gaslighter, the works. I'm researching legal maneuvers to pull in court with her. Trying to find a way to get the funds she might need to fight. Helping to outpace the psychological damage on her kids.

I sat down with a jumper in BC, overlooking a plaza at one at night. His friend had died. He was considering suicide. And I opened up and talked to him about some of the people I lost. We talked about a lot of things. Till something like three in the morning, just sitting on the edge of a building together. Then he got up and decided not to. I walked with him to his car, gave him my number and told him to call if he needed to. Next day a doctor called me to let me know that he'd checked himself into the hospital to get help.

A lot of other people too. So many, if I go over them. It's just... so fucking surreal to me what I've done. How I could've blown into so many pieces, even now I'm still in pieces, and yet I've done that for people. How many lives so positively permanently altered by somebody who could be so fucked and warped at the same time. In the last year alone there's so much shit that's happened in my life it's fucking insane.