The "I need to vent" thread

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Back before I was in the forums, in June, I went 1,100 miles to see my girlfriend, who I met on the internet. After she begged me to go to a get together of friends we mutually knew, she spent the whole evening on the arm of another man, who was married. After trying to play it cool, I lost patience, and then she broke up with me by night's end.

Then last week, I learn she's engaged to the guy she was all over that night, and he divorced his wife to be with her.

I am so fucking pissed off.

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After D&D last night, I think I left my iPod and coat in the classroom we game in. I realized an hour or two after I got home and went to campus this morning to see if I could find it. Found nothing in the room and went to Lost & Found, they were unhelpful jerks who wouldn't even check for me, even when I asked nicely. I sent a message to one of the other people who were on the floor, hoping they would have checked so just waiting on that. Just FUCK!!!

Adding to my frustrations, I had to walk an hour to campus to check on nothing after waking up from four hours of sleep, I don't even know how long I'm going to have to wait to hear back from the one guy, and I only now bothered to take some time to get something to drink after being thristy for the last two hours. So yeah, i'm a little pissed.

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And I heard back and officially nothing from the guy who does roomchecks. So, yeah, I'm going to chalk this one up as a lost cause. One bright side is I have a friend who hasn't used their 4th Gen iPod Nano in a year and said they'd sell it to me for 75 bucks. So, assuming it checks out, then I only lost out on 75 bucks and a coat I've had since high school which I've needed to replace anyway.

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I think I'm just going to fucking scream and cry at the same time now. That should be fun.

You know Austen, if you don't tell us what's wrong, it's harder for us to console you/off you cookies.

If you want the whole story, then I'll just post the stuff that has really been getting to me, but in spoiler tags, so anyone who can't be bothered reading the fun parts of my life, can just ignore them

Well, I best start with the insomnia that I have been dealing with for the past several months, that have severely affected my ability to sleep, and wake up at proper times. Add to this the stress of handing in coursework on subjects I knew nothing about, at the start of the year I sort of felt like I was sort of screwed.

I contacted my GP to help with the issue, and he prescribed something to deal with panic attacks, I was to take a pill whenever I felt a panic attack coming on, sadly they had no real effect, and made things worse, instead of about one or two attacks a day, I was now dealing with three or four.

I went back to him and he found that weird, and asked me to go and see a university counsellor, and discuss my issues with her. Which I did, I'd got an appointment booked with her, and he gave me something to help calm me down at night, a tranquillizer type of product. I walked away with that, tried it, and it had no effect. The new term was starting back up, and the only thing I could think of was the horrible amounts of travel I would be doing for a course, I didn't even enjoy, or see a career in, all I could think of was seeing all this time wasted on travel and expenses, and then the thoughts of the trains I would have to get, which as my first train was two stops away from my first pit stop station, the train would be overflowing with people, and I would feel claustrophobic, this wasn't help by one day getting on the train and the person in front of me getting on the train, and standing still at the door, blocking my way into the train. I was not going to try and take his spot, but rather go along the train to an empty space, but the thoughts of waiting for hours in the freezing cold for a train just to get on another train which would also be packed and spend an hours journey alone in a crowded room scared the living hell out of me. I just didn't like the feeling of being in such proximity to these people and getting in their way as they got off.

Also, the journeys cost would be £10 a day, and I would have to ask myself, was this really worth it, just to be told I have no clue what I'm doing, and see people I thought were my friends form a whole new group without me, while I fucked up a class by failing a test by 2 marks. It was the two marks that got to me, I would rather be told "You got a horrible score" rather than "So close, yet so far"

My insomnia continued as I went through this, and then got an e-mail from one lecturer saying he was taking me out of a class, due to my absence, which shot my confidence, as I felt I was ready to brave the journey, but without that class, I felt like a failure, and everything from the year was worthless.

I couldn't face going to class, and my insomnia kept getting worse, and I spoke to my GP who prescribed me sleeping pills, which did nothing but make me more alert and awake to the issues I'd be facing. Having an opposite effect, which seemed to surprise him.

I had gone to see the student counsellor for the first time at this point, and rather than feeling like I could get a lot off of my chest, I didn't feel comfortable and just said about the horrors of travel, and how it played a real mind fuck on me, going through this whole journey for something I didn't even care about. She then took a look at her watch, which made me think she wants to end this soon, which she did, five minutes later, leaving me not really wanting to ask anymore questions, cause I just felt that if she didn't really feel like paying attention, then why should I talk.

This next part happened last summer, and I really hate telling it, as I think it's the worst thing I've ever done.

Last summer, I went and got a kitten and all the supplies for him, to make my flat his new home. I'd only really dealt with dogs up to this point, so I didn't know kittens needed to warm to you, and understand their new surroundings on their own. Dogs usually try and be as close to a person and get to know you in my experience. It was during this time that my BF found out he may not be coming back the following year, due to his personal study problems, which I won't go into, as that's his business. I then started thinking about how I would have to take care of this kitten, who was a great kitten, came out of his shell just after a few hours, and loved playing around the house, and how I thought about all the bills I'd be paying for him, and realising, with him gone (my other half) I'd have to get rid of the kitten at some point. What if he fails his degree, what if he never comes back. I'd grow attached to this little guy, and have to let him go, and all the money I'd have to pay in rent and utilities, including council tax, which I should have known beforehand, I had a serious anxiety attack over all these issues. And although the kitten had done nothing wrong, in my mindset, he had to go.

I called the woman I'd bought him from and took him back the next day, but I had to put him in a carrying cage, and put him in the hallway as I phoned a taxi to take me there, I could hear him whimpering, scared not knowing what was going on. This was the same kitten, who on the journey home, put his paw into my hand, when I put my hand outside the cage for him, and when I put some dry treat food in my hand for him to eat to draw him out, he ate, and let me left him for a short period of time, and I'd fucked him up.

I took him back to his original home less than 24 hours after getting him, and spent the majority of that summer sitting in this flat, alone with nobody for company. As he'd gone back home to visit family for the summer, and the one chance of companionship I had, and I fucking blew it.

There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about that kitten, and what I've done wrong, and how if I had taken the appropriate steps and measures then he would have been with me for years.

But no, my short sighted anxiety completed fucked up the one thing I'd wanted for years.

I've never told anyone about the kitten thing, as I'm too ashamed to let anyone know how horrible a person I am. I wanted to give that cat a home for life, and I couldn't even give him a home for one fucking day. I think about him everyday, and what could have been, and I envy my closest in age brother, who lived with my dad, who has two dogs, the one of which being Bonnie from my Facebook pics, who is the sweetest animal you will ever meet. If I ever got the chance to take Bonnie in as my own, I would do it in a heartbeat. The other dog he has is Milo, a Jack Russell Terrier, who may be hyper, but she loves to play with you, and lie on my lap whenever I see her, and they both go crazy with joy when they see me. Which is nice. But at the end of the day, they are not my dogs, no matter how much I'd want them to be. And no matter how much I wish I'd never been stupid enough to give that kitten back, I can never take back what I've done, and I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life.

I think about that kitten, and what could have been every other day, just another body in the house, someone who would be there, and make me feel less lonely, being there alone.

And now, I have nothing, I have no need to pay rent till July 16th (Rent paid in chunks) but that doesn't stop me wondering where the next amount of rent will come from, or how I'm going to pay for anything. Sometimes I just want to scream from the top of my lungs and say "I want a fucking break!"

And summer is rolling around, and he has to go back home again for two months at least this time, leaving the flat just me alone. Wondering what will happen in September, will I try and finish my degree, or will I just try and use what little level of educational I've succesfully attained and try and find full time work. Which I'm not against, I would just ask myself, who would hire me. I've read stories of people spending months looking for any job. I don't think I can live up to the standards left by my brothers, two of which have degrees and have good jobs, and the respect of my family. And another who worked his way up the ranks by getting job experience, and even though, I think he is a gigantic lying tool, who really would prefer to have fuck all to do with me or my life, no matter what his 11PM call on a Friday night saying "You're my should come round sometime" fucking lies he brings out to make himself feel better, cause we rarely talk, because he just isn't interested in dealing with my issues. If you really wanted me to have anything with your family, you have had two years to send me a text and say I should come round. Don't pretend that we're best friends, when the longest we've talked in several years past a hello, and merry Christmas is when you asked me to sell something for you on eBay.

Then of course, theirs the whole gay thing. I don't want people to know my private life, I don't like knowing the details of other peoples lives, and I like the same courtesy for me. However, I just feel that one day, my family is going to learn the truth about my life, and that will be me fucked. My parents are both pensioners, and old school beliefs, and already have grandchildren from my oldest brothers, so the idea of one of their sons "Not thinking right" may just make them disown me and my life. I don't flaunt my private life, and very few people know about my preferences in real life, as I still fear violence against me, or the people I care about. I may be a coward for still being closeted in that sense, but I almost feel like there's nothing else I can do but just hold it all in.

Sorry about the long post in the spoilers, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

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Austen, if I was in Scotland right now, I'd give you a huge hug. I don't think you're a coward or selfish. The kitten, you didn't think you could take care of it properly so you did what you thought was right by it. As for the gay thing, technically, I never told my parents. My mom found out from MySpace and my dad doesn't know. I'm pretty open with everyone else. Still, I know that's not for everyone.

On the subject of counseling, once again, not for everyone. I tired it a few times and gave up when my counselor suggested me to someone else because, and I quote, I sucked the passion for helping people out of him. Useless fucktard.

Really, everything works out if you give it a chance. Life is weird like that.

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My twelve-year-old sister is a raging bitch who needed the slap I gave her today. No, it is not okay to pick on our autistic sister for not getting into college. No, it is not okay to cuss us out for telling you to back off of her. No, it is not okay that you made her cry. And guess what? No, it's not okay to cuss me out for slapping you, or to say that you wish I wasn't your sister, etc etc etc. You make everyone's life harder, and guess what? If I'd been disciplining you, you'd be getting a slap every fucking day for what you say to the rest of us, and how you treat us. Get your shit in line, and start treating us with some common fucking respect.

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I very much dislike pain. What I dislike more than pain, is unexplained pain. And with unexplained pain come my very special brand of a, for lack of a better term, panic attack.

So in conclusion, I am experiencing unexplained pain, slightly freaking out and not sleeping. Oh, and work comes at 8AM. Funtastic!

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Strap yourselves in folks, this is a long one.

So, independent on the E-2 gathering here in Chicago, I had planned to meet up with another group of geeks to play my first game of D&D ever. It was supposed to happen on Saturday night at their hotel, which is only about a mile and a half away. Fine, I figure. I'll walk there, we'll be done by 10:30 and I can get back with the rest of the group and enjoy the Brits vs. Yanks for the International drinking bragging rights trophy.

I walk there, having both texted and called first and getting no response. Turns out someone had wrenched their back and needed a day of rest or so, someone needed a good nights sleep, and the guy who would be running the game (aka the DM) went out drinking with J.K. Woodward (artist for Peter David's Fallen Angel). So I'm in the lobby for about 15 minutes waiting for someone to tell me what room they're in and I get that update. Not having correct change for the bus, I walk back to our hotel, getting asked for spare change by about 30 homeless people. 3 miles after the con, and ostensibly nothing to show for it. But that's not why I'm pissed.

Having met up with the group after they had eaten, we went out trying to find a karaoke joint. We settled on a bar that charged us $11 per drink and no karaoke, so back to the Brits room we went for more recreational drinking and dialogue (By the by, the drinking contest ended in a draw for reasons I won't get into). During the very fun dialogue, things came to light that are embarrassing to some of the people in the room, myself included. But that's not why I'm pissed.

Sunday, getting to the con was met with a thunderstorm, so Stavros and I were soaking wet and freezing waiting for the next shuttle to come around 30 minutes later. Mike was exhausted and couldn't make it, so I took it upon myself to record a couple of panels for the c2e2 episodes of The Show. In between panels, I ran to the food court and grabbed a quick bite. After the meal, I ran into one of the geeks I was supposed to play D&D with and she was sitting with Doug Walker (The Nostalgia Critic), Rob Walker (That other guy with the glasses), and Brad Jones (the Cinema Snob). I was dying to talk to them for a few hours about shitty movies, but I had to get back to the panel. But, yet again, that's not why I'm pissed off.

After the con, I offered to drive Damien to Union Station, as I had a rent-a-car. Couldn't find my ticket, so parking ended up costing me $90. Then, my mental compass apparently fritzed out because I nearly got us lost trying to find someplace we had walked to just a couple of days earlier (Again, Dubs, I'm so very sorry for that. Add into that the fact that I suck at city driving, and yeah, I was frazzled. But that's still not why I'm pissed.

So, I finally got to play in my first session of D&D. It was great fun, except that one of the female players was having a problem with the dungeon master. It got to the point where she had to leave the room when it wasn't her turn. I knew something had happened on Friday night because one of the other players punched the DM in the ear (with the DM's permission) and not-so-subtle references were made that he completely deserved it, although no one was saying the whole story.

Now, here is why I'm pissed. After the session ended, with me shaking the DM's hand and thanking him for running the game before he left, I found out what happened. The DM was sharing a room with the female player and went out drinking. Very blitzed, he came back to their hotel room, crawled in bed with the girl, and attempted to rape her. It's 5 hours later, and I still want to punch him in the nuts, slam his head into my knee, choke him out, remove his clothes, and throw him out into the street with the rest of the trash.

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I had a forty year old woman take a swing at me over thirty bucks worth of makeup, had to stay at work an extra hour and put my car in the ditch on the ride home.

Wow. Dude, as days go that one completely sucks. Hope you're ok and the car isn't too damaged.

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