#i dont want even more negativity in my life

[3416]

anyway. this is maybe my favorite thread i’ve found on twitter the past couple days about why empathy directly translates to being able to enjoy sports regardless of the outcome. we’d all be better off and less bitter if we were willing to embrace the randomness of sport (especially ice hockey) or admit that the people we’re watching are actual people, lol. thank you twitter user himbeaux_on_ice for the logic in a sea of ugliness lkjsdklfjsdkl

[geometric-bs]

it is too early to go to bed but i have no energy but i still have time so i want to do something but i dont have energy so i have to wait because it is too early to go to bed but i have no energy

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[applejongho]

:/

[orcelito]

I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.

The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.

Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.

In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.

And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.

I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.

But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.

His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.

It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.

I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)

It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.

And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".

He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.

So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.

He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.

I love him. I miss him already.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

.

[bunnihearted]

📖🖊❄️

[sylhea-raemi]

the nero and airi connection is so important it's not just bcs theyre my faves

[xebecdav]

honestly i think one of the first steps towards fat acceptance (specifically self-acceptance but probably also generally speaking) is understanding being fat isnt a moral failing, or a failing at all. nobody is doing anything “wrong” by being fat. the reason for said fatness doesnt matter, wether its a health condition, a disability, or even just eating what you want and not being active. your body is morally neutral no matter what.

[vorerilla]

i think about my ex every day and it haunts me bc i never resolved it/told them all of my feelings of how i loved them but that theyre also an asshole who didnt treat me right and made me feel so insecure and stupid and i wish i could just PUT THE THOUGHTS AWAY FOR NOW

[skullzy20]

I am not exaggerating when I say I live with one of the worst cishet men I've ever met in my life and its horrible

Pretty big vent incoming in tags, just a warning. Feel free to scroll past /gen

[salsflore]

[gaeulssims]

˗ˏˋ Navigating trust ´ˎ˗

Ama has the jealous trait and a fear of cheating. This trait and fear came during a period when they were growing apart due to work and them raising their two infants(Alfredo and Chianti) Saul was often working double shifts, while Ama's small bakery stand struggled to gain recognition. In the middle of all this, Ama started having a fear that Saul might be unfaithful to her. They’ve been through their hurdles and was able to talk this out (Ale and Cherry where the results of it..). Saul feeling that something was off, went to this well-renowned restaurant with her to once again adress these fears and ease her mind. Prev | Next

[corvidcall]

i keep looking at video essay recs because i love to see how many of them i already watch, and theres one that keeps coming up in rec lists that i tried to watch but couldnt get into bc. ok it was about bo burnham and the essayist started the video by saying that they think dont like comedy music as a genre??

like you can have all the opinions you want on whatever you want. you dont HAVE to like comedy music, and you can have stuff you wanna say about art you dont like, but tbh i just dont understand why you would start off a piece of art criticism by entirely undercutting your own credibility right out the gate???

how can i take your criticism seriously if you wouldn't have liked it even if it was good? you dont even know what a good version of this thing WOULD BE because you think all versions of this thing are categorically bad!!

like, if i was trying to give a critique of. idk. an italian restaurant near me. and i started off by telling you that I think italian food is, as a rule, bad, you're not gonna take what i have to say very seriously, are you? If I made a long video essay about Miles Davis, and started it off by saying that I hate trumpets, theyre the worst instrument and they entirely lack musicality and artfulness, why would you watch to the end of that video?

its just weird!!! I guess its better than saving it for partway through and revealing that ive just wasted my time, but still. it's weird. why do that!!!!

[orcelito]

As for my post this morning. If anyone was worried. Me personally I'm okay (I guess) but my dad's in the hospital and things r still very up in the air. So.

[funkervogt]

Fuck i love drawing actually. getting really into observational drawing as almost like...a lifestyle. My little pocket sketchbook I carry with me whenever i go out and i draw whatevers in front of me. I do it all in ink no pencil no erasing. Some days I feel like being super accurate and observational and that's fun for me. Sometimes it isn't and i get more relaxed with it. Theres just something very nice about filling up these little sketchbooks with all the places youve been and things youve seen. Im just like arthur morgan fr