Sincerely app and my replies to vents

 

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Draft: “This Isn’t a Wendy’s”

I’ve never actually lost a job. I’ve quit them. All of them. And then one day I wasn’t working anymore, not because I wanted rest or a break, but because I was diagnosed with something horrible. A mental illness that didn’t feel like mine. A label dropped on me like wet cement.

I kept saying I was fine. Nobody believed me. I hung on to the last pieces of my normal life the way you cling to a slippery rock in cold water. Before the pills I was in the best shape of my life—then psychiatry did what psychiatry often does, and everything changed.

Everyone hates me online, apparently. Nobody sent me a message all day. So I talk to streamers, and I remind myself: nobody promised me a rose garden. The sooner you pick yourself up the better, so the spiral doesn’t take you down to drinking or making your kid hate you. Help exists. Things could be worse. They always could.

My ex? I got over him. Took a year, maybe more. I’m not seeing anyone now. The wrong kind of guys gravitate toward me—too old, too careless, one-night stands or abusers who pretend to care. Everyone of those men have  fantasies. And exes are exes for a reason. Flirt with someone new if you want. Don’t let his temper live rent-free in your mind.

And remember: opinions are like assholes. Everyone has one. Including him.

Money? Well. Money is someone in a bank pressing buttons, running risk assessments, pretending numbers are real. I lost about seventeen thousand because of my ex—yes, we counted it. Financial abuse is violence. And money isn’t love, even if people try to treat it that way.

I used to have a perfect credit score. Until I didn’t. Turns out the whole system is built on debt anyway—the first big loan was never meant to be paid back. Merchants invented interest and suddenly everything became a game no one can win. Some people can’t save and stay poor. Some enable others because they’re afraid to stop. That’s cruel too, sometimes. You won’t be there forever.

You are not clinically insane.

You are not forced to take psychoactive drugs.

Remember that.

My first kiss? Absolutely horrible. I was twenty-something in a bar and his tongue moved like a helicopter rotor. I wanted to leave my body. I’m asexual, so dating culture never worked for me anyway.

Loved ones go by many names. And it’s “heard”, not “heart”—I noticed the typo. I hate poems unless someone explains them. I’ve always been me. She never left. I just extend and reach outside myself sometimes, trying to give and take like a normal person. I’m strong in the way a carton of eggs is strong: you can carry it, but break a few and something sweet might still come out of it.

And yes, I’m from Northern Europe, ma’am.

This isn’t a Wendy’s.

l've never lost a job mainly quit them but

I've not been working since I got diagnosed with some horrible mental illness. That wasn't fair either and it was a shock. I wasn't believed whatever l claimed and hung onto my normal life. I was in best shape of my life physically before the psychiatric drugs etc destroyed my life. Everyone hates me online. Nobody sent me a message all day. I talk to streamers. Nobody promised me a rose garden. As soon as you pick yourself up the better so you don't spiral to negativity. Or worse, start drinking or make your kid hate you.

There's always help available. Things could be worse.

Oh I got over my ex. Took a year maybe more. Not seeing anyone anymore. The wrong kind of guy is attracted to me.

Too old etc only one night stand or abusers who really don't care. Everyone had fantasies of those men. Maybe listen to a song about exes or whatever. Not worth mulling over. I don't know what that Championship is. Flirt with someone, dont let his temper still affect you, exes are exes for reason. Also: everyone is his or hers asshole's edges and opinions are like assholes-everyone has one

Money is mostly someone in a bank pressing buttons, doing risk assesment.

Learn to talk about your finances together. I lost about 17k money because of my ex. I counted it with Al.

Financial abuse is still a form of violence

Money won't bring happiness. It's just numbers in a bank account that it has promised to pay out to you. It's risk assesment, pressing buttons. There's more debt in the world than cash. The system is rigged since the first big debt wasn't supposed to be paid back, but against the loan merchants could get interest. I had a perfect credit score.

Until I didn't. It was stressful. Some people can't save money and stay poor.

Good that you noticed your enabling habit. You won't be there always that could be scary. Even cruel if you stopped, I'm assuming financially help them? Money isn't love either

You are not clinically insane and you are not forced to take psychoactive drugs.

My first kiss was horrible. I was at a bar and his tongue moved like a helicopter whirring. I was over 20 years old. I'm asexual though. Dating culture never really worked for myself.

Loved ones go by many names. Hear, heard, heard... not heart. Was it a typo? I hate poems myself. Could use improvement C-btw always been me.

She never left. I extend and reach outside of myself to give and take. I mean... I'm strong. Like a carton of eggs, and you have to break some eggs to make a cake

I’m from Northern Europe, ma’am. This isn’t a Wendy’s.