RL Anger
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@Roz I'm so sorry for your loss, man.
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This is shitty all around. I'm sorry for you both. May the care and love of those around you give you comfort and peace to get you through the rough days.
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Keeping you and your mom and dad in my thoughts, hun. hugs
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Missed your post! I am so sorry for your loss.
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Thanks, everyone. It's four years this year, so not so immediate, but it'll suck forever.
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@Roz
Much love, Roz. I will light a candle for you. The sentiment still matters.For myself, today?
Having a really good friend. And loving to hang out with them, except when it comes to gaming. Because of his 'My way or the highway' mentality regarding it. -
@somasatori said in RL Anger:
Hello, anniversary of my brother's suicide. Fancy seeing you again this year.
I'm so sorry, @Roz. I can kind of empathize. The anniversary of my wife's suicide is on the 30th of this month. All of my condolences for you.
Man. Condolences right back at you. It's an awful club to be in.
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@somasatori , @Roz , so sorry
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@somasatori said in RL Anger:
Hello, anniversary of my brother's suicide. Fancy seeing you again this year.
I'm so sorry, @Roz. I can kind of empathize. The anniversary of my wife's suicide is on the 30th of this month. All of my condolences for you.
Man. Condolences right back at you. It's an awful club to be in.
It certainly is. Also four years for me, too. It's strange how time seems to go by so quickly, but so slowly at the same time. Anyway, I hope you're doing well.
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Much less heavy and not so much RL Anger as RL Nerves, but I work admin-side in the performing arts and am getting back on stage for a song for the first time in years (staff show for the cabaret space I work on, among other things) and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah yeah I'm pretty nervous. I never got stage fright when I was actually acting regularly, but getting up as yourself without a script is a whole nother can of worms.
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@Roz
GOOD LUCK. -
That day when positively everything goes wrong.
You don't really sleep because you have to be up early. And you're still up earlier than you had to be. But you've had it drilled into your head that there is a timetable and you better be ready to go by 10 and you tell the other folks who need to go the same thing (even if you are not a fire and brimstone asshat about doing it).
You end up working your butt off in that time because, hey, you're up, and you may as well do something productive about it.
But because you weren't a fire and brimstone asshat about it, everybody else is late.
Including the person who was so caught up in everyone being on time. Who called exactly on time (only to find you ready and the other person puttering around in the world's longest shower, and to say 'oh, I'm not ready yet either') to further grouse about how you're never on time. (Even though you, and not even the person bitching, are.)
You get to the store, and miraculously find a good deal on file boxes. Which you need. And you get yelled at.
You find a cushion you need, because you're getting old and you now understand why your mom used to wince whenever she saw you sitting on the floor, for less than half everything you've found while you've been searching for online for the past two weeks. Not sitting on the floor is, at the moment, not an option. And you get yelled at.
You find floor padding (which you need for the same reason, also because standing around for hours is not doing your fucked up spine any favors and you're going to be doing a lot of that, too) for, again, half what you've found any other time before, and you've been looking desperately since October. You still get yelled at, because you make the mistake of mentioning they can do double duty as knitting blocking mats so you can finally block that shawl you crash-coursed your way through for your mother's Xmas present in 2 days, because now it is clearly frivilous, not twice as useful, for some reason known only to complete idiots.
Mr. In A Hurry asks where Mr. Slowpoke is. Mr. Slowpoke has gone seeking something he mumbled into nowhere and so when you call over, "I don't know!", Mr. Slowpoke thinks you heard him when you were supposed to follow him and also mishears you as saying, "I don't care" so then there's even more yelling at.
You explain, and get an 'Oh' but no less yelling at.
Then, you're waiting in the deli line, and waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Waiting long enough most of the line has given the hell up and left, so when they start calling out numbers, they do so too fast, and call four of them at once. Including yours and the person after you. And when she plows ahead of you while you're handing them the number, they (obviously) take yours, and you get to listen to her snarking you loudly to someone else, clearly meant to be heard, at length.
When you quietly mention, "I have been right here," this triggers psycho-from-hell woman screaming in your face and threatening violence for a full ten fucking minutes with every possible threat and insult in the book.
But now, of course, they're getting your order ready, so you get to stand there and wait for the slowest deli counter in creation to slice your father's frickin' prosciutto because he's going in for knee replacement surgery on Thursday and it was the one thing he asked you to please get, because he physically can't stand at the damn counter waiting himself, which means you can't even walk away from the crazy bitch screaming in your face and every damn time you turn around to look away and keep quiet she just circles around and keeps fucking going like the energizer bunny of 'why haven't they removed this frothing psychotic from the premises yet'.
You then get yelled at more for 'making a scene', at which point you go out to the car to smoke, because fuck that, and you're shaking too damn hard because you don't do physical violence and people hurtling torrents of abuse at you out of nowhere is pretty fucked up, and you'd kinda like to go cry where nobody can see you.
You get two puffs into your clove before it sputters out, and the lighter is now magically out of fluid.
It will be a half hour drive home, and you know you're just going to continue to get yelled at.
You do.
By the time you get home, you're still shaking so hard you can barely type, because you're still easing down from the full-blown 'am I having a heart attack?!' panic attack.
Naturally, you have plans. You warn folks you might be a little late. It's just going to be an hour.
That still manages to shoot those plans straight to hell and everyone is upset.
They're not yelling, not even the littlest bit, but you can tell everyone is disappointed, and somehow, that is a hundred times worse.
I fucking hate this day.
I really fucking hate this day.
It isn't a day of being pecked to death by sparrows, but of rabid kamikaze pigeons or some shit, and goddamn.
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People who 5 star really fucking sad movies on Netflix just because they're really fucking sad. Thanks, assholes. I just cried my damn afternoon away.
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@VulgarKitten
... this may sound bad, but can I get some suggestions? I feel like I need a good cry.
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@Bobotron watch the biopic on Edith Piaf's life, "La Vie En Rose" (original title "La Mome") with Marion Cotillard.
Kid you not, you'll weep like a babe. And 90% of what happens in the movie actually happened to her.
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