Rant VIII: The Reckoning

sixpackshaker said:

Still, he broke every rule about letting you out. Tell him to take if from the deposit.

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The deposit is a weird thing. There was no official security deposit. When we moved in he had put 200.00 oil in. He waived a security deposit in favour of us leaving 200.00 when we left. He got 300.00 because, well, no one does 200.00 drop offs anymore.

Then you are done.

If he can't run his "business" professionally, then he can eat the losses. Screw him and all other slum landlords.

Eriol and I had a not dissimilar experience when leaving our place in Sask. It ended up going to provincial tenant/landlord arbitration, which we attended over the phone, since it happened months after we had moved. While we didn't get all of our deposit back (and we should have), we didn't end up oweing the scumbag any money either.

It was stressful as all hell for me, so I sympathize. It can help to know exactly what your rights and such are, at least that was helpful for me, but YMMV. Good luck.

From the sound of it, your ex-landlord is not even remotely above board, which I would think means that he'd get slaughtered during any legal action.

Found out our toilet has been leaking for a while. By the time we discovered it, though, the nearby wall and sub-floor was water damaged and ruined.

So, starting next week, we're having the whole thing torn out and replaced as we can manage it. Unfortunately, this is our only bathroom, so using it will be a challenge for a while.

Sold my video card to offset the cost of a newer one. Came home. Money is nowhere to be found. This very much seems like a case of money falling out of my pocket (hours ago) while getting out of the car to text my wife and now it's gone.

I'm livid with anger at myself.

That sucks, man.

I don't know if I'm just heartless for thinking this, but I really hope my grandparents die within a short span of each other. Not soon, mind you, I love them to death, but they're pretty close to death's door, and I know it's only a matter of time. The thought of one of them living for long alone from the other is kinda heart breaking, they've been together forever.

Dave said:

I have a feeling everyone will understand.

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Ayep.

And if you need to "keep" the money (that was meant for you anyway) to cover expenses, I'm sure we'd understand that, too.

--Patrick

Anything you need to do, Dave.

PatrThom said:

Ayep.

And if you need to "keep" the money (that was meant for you anyway) to cover expenses, I'm sure we'd understand that, too.

--Patrick

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Basically this. Shit happens. He left the money to you, so if you need it for a time of need, no one is going to complain. And hey... then we can play for official Halforums IOUs!

So long as you're there for him. No-one should have to die alone.

Dave said:

I'm back. He's doing well today and has his immediate family by his side. They've extended the time to weeks now. Don't ask me how. According to my cousin he's gone from death's door to almost his old self. He's even talking about going to the funeral service! So I'm not needed yet, but I'll still be there Sunday while everyone is at the viewing (if he doesn't go).

The contest is ON, baby!

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Woo hoo!

I mean... I'm happy for your family... yeah. Totally not a self-centered asshole

Kidneys and palliative stuff in general is weird. My grandmother rebounded... at least 4 times in her last few months (let alone the number of 'it'll be a matter of days' that we heard in the years prior).

Take care of yourself.

Is this what insanity feels like? Is this the kind of feeling that mentally unstable people have just before they do something bad? Because I feel like I'm on the verge of snapping. I really do. I have nothing left. Nothing.

Had an argument with Dad earlier tonight. Shouting. He never sees reason in anything. Everything is so fucking negative for him and Mom. They don't communicate, they just snap at each other. Or walk away and then say (loudly) even more snapping comments a room or two away. That's all they do. And then they do the same to me when we argue. And today, Dad started saying things like they didn't want me here (yeah, no shit) and that I should find somewhere else to live. Which basically means I have NOTHING. FUCKING NOTHING. Nowhere to go. No one to see. Not even my fucking parents want me.

Do you know what I was thinking about while I tried to sleep just now? What I could do that someone could just throw me away in jail. I started thinking of maybe doing a fuckton of destruction of property. Or go on a long, destructive joyride with one of the cars. Hell, I even thought maybe I could just kill my dad. Just fucking choke him in his sleep. That'd get me thrown away for sure, right?

AND I DON'T TO DO THOSE THINGS. BUT THOSE ARE THE FUCKING THOUGHTS GOING THROUGH MY HEAD RIGHT NOW. I feel so fucking unwanted, unloved, like a fucking lifeless loser who can't and won't amount to anything because I can't even get a stupid, worthless, mindless peon minimum wage fucking job. No friends. No one to talk to in person or to help me get out of the house. Nowhere to go because I can't afford anything. Any kind of possibly things that might - MIGHT - help me costs money but FUCK NO of course Dad just shoots down any possible ideas that might help his SON KEEP HIS FUCKING SANITY.

I just...I don't know what to do anymore. I just don't. I have nothing. I have no one. I feel like the biggest fucking loser, trapped in a situation of my own making because I've amounted to nothing when I'm hitting 36 this year. I'm sitting here crying because I feel so trapped and so borderline ready to just go somewhere and die just so the whole world can be rid of me. What's the fucking point? Why bother anymore? Why bother with anything? I'm too broken at this point that I'm not going to amount to anything. I can't sure as hell support myself anymore. I'm sure as hell not going to amount to anything anymore.

For fucks sake, is it so fucking wrong to feel wanted and not a burden?

ThatNickGuy said:

is it so fucking wrong to feel wanted and not a burden?

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No.

--Patrick

Nick, I don't know what resources you have vis-a-vis counselling, but I really need to press upon the idea that you should find someone. It's great to come here and share, and I'm sure most of us agree that we're happy to listen and help where we can, but I've been where you are. I mean, specifically where you are. It's a scary, dark place when you have to question whether or not you can trust your own mind, and honestly, given the description of what's going on, it sounds like you can't. I'm not suggesting your nuts (at least not any more that the rest of us are), but some us unfortunately have to live with that I've come to think of as an unreliable narrator. The problem is that when things are genuinely bad, as it sounds like they are, that narrator turns everything up to eleven and makes it almost impossible to improve the situation, even just for yourself.

I guess what I'm saying is, I've been there, and it took regularly talking to an essentially impartial third party on a regular basis to get it under control since I'm not a fan of taking medications for such things.

Okay, there's my bi-annual semi-serious post. Back to meaningless smart-assery.

I haven't had a drink in two days, and I hate it only slightly less than I hate myself!

My head is nothing but cacophony. There is a hellish din that fills my mind, and thinking, trying to focus, is like walking through this raucous crowd - hearing a clear voice here, and a full sentence there, but no complete idea of who or what is being said around me. I'm unable to pick up on one of these and select it, follow it, find it. I've naught but the rambling ideas of a doddering fool whose partial thoughts and inability to relate to the others around him have trapped him in a state without comfort.

Chad Sexington said:

My head is nothing but cacophony. There is a hellish din that fills my mind, and thinking, trying to focus, is like walking through this raucous crowd - hearing a clear voice here, and a full sentence there, but no complete idea of who or what is being said around me. I'm unable to pick up on one of these and select it, follow it, find it. I've naught but the rambling ideas of a doddering fool whose partial thoughts and inability to relate to the others around him have trapped him in a state without comfort.

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I have another friend who says this is the reason why he drinks. It quiets his brain. Just an observation that I find interesting. I've never thought of alcohol as having that kind of effect.

As a depressant, it reduces neurological activity, i.e., "quieting your thoughts."
Increasing reaction time, etc.
An artist's best friend is a busy brain, it keeps you creative. But if you can't keep all the voices focused on the same task, you get dragged down in the minutiae, and accomplish nothing.

--Patrick

WasabiPoptart said:

I have another friend who says this is the reason why he drinks. It quiets his brain. Just an observation that I find interesting. I've never thought of alcohol as having that kind of effect.

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Perhaps it is the most common reason I choose to have a drink -the 'noise' in my brain. However, the noise is not new to these past two days where I have not been drinking; it is, if not a product of, coincident with my depression. I suppose the difference is I cannot go home and have a glass of wine, and wine with dinner, and a generous two fingers of whisky in the evening - and yes, I realise that's 'a lot.'

I've never considered myself an alcoholic -and still don't ("admitting you have a problem...", I know)- but I certainly have not gone a day without a drink in a very long time. The last time I committed to not drinking lasted less than 24 hours, and the time before that, about a month/5 weeks.

I can 'not drink,' and I seldom feel like, "I need a drink," but I do both enjoy and want to enjoy alcohol. I have seldom pursued drinking to get drunk, but far more often I've found a bottle of wine that I like, and had the whole thing, and certainly I am more than tipsy by the end of it, I'm not going to pretend I somehow avoid becoming inebriated. I enjoy my Guinness, and my scotches and whiskeys, and I tend to enjoy them to excess, but never for the excess, en generale. This perhaps all sounds like the dithering protests of alcoholic, however.

I've chosen to stop because this past long weekend, while visiting her family, my girlfriend felt that I embarrassed her one evening. Now, I don't feel I was embarrassing, and the impression I got from her brother and sister was not that they felt I'd embarrassed her or myself, but I suppose it is her feelings, not theirs nor my own, which count here- I cannot say, "You shouldn't feel embarrassed," as though I understand the inner life that brought to that feeling.

As well, my girlfriend specifically asked that I don't get drunk anymore, but I chose simply to stop altogether. I wonder that this is artificially hard on myself, or that it actually is wiser - I can easily see the pleasure of one good glass of wine leading to the temptation for a second, and then, well, why not the usual, a strong nightcap while I read or write...

I maunder.

I sometimes want to be able to drink my problems away. But I'm the type of person who's afraid of not being in my right state of mind. Though I wish I could somehow make my brain stop thinking about certain things for more than a few moments as well.

Cheesy1 said:

I sometimes want to be able to drink my problems away. But I'm the type of person who's afraid of not being in my right state of mind. Though I wish I could somehow make my brain stop thinking about certain things for more than a few moments as well.

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This is more like me. I'd like to be able to have a few drinks and not think about...well, anything. I need to be in control of myself, though, and when I drink I feel I am not as in control of myself or my thinking. And now we see the root of my problems, huh?

I never understood the phrase 'drink your troubles away,' but maybe I'm too cynical. No matter how hard I drink, the troubles don't go anywhere!

I have never cultivated a liking for beer, wine, or whisky. There are some types of cordials and liqueurs that I enjoy (in moderation), but it is the taste which puts me off long before I get to a point where I might be worried about the injury my tongue might cause (to others and to myself). This leads to social awkwardness, since many bonding rituals seem to require the presence of beer, and it is difficult to politely decline.

--Patrick

PatrThom said:

...since many bonding rituals seem to require the presence of beer, and it is difficult to politely decline.

--Patrick

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That is the definition of Beer Pressure.

See, I like beer, but I don't like shitty beer. My family (aunts, uncles, etc) drink MGD. I'm the black sheep because I can't stand the stuff.

Krisken said:

See, I like beer, but I don't like shitty beer. My family (aunts, uncles, etc) drink MGD. I'm the black sheep because I can't stand the stuff.

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...and that's the real bitch of it all. People who drink shitty beer always seem to give other people crap about not drinking their bottles of horse piss for some reason. It should be the other way around.