I always like a good homemade boul of AHHHHHH I FUCKING HATE MY FEELINGS PUSH THEM AWAY CANT SHOW EMOTION AHHHHHHH SHIT THE ONLY FEELING IM ALLOWED TO FEEL IS ANGER FUCKKKKKKK YOUUUUUU FEEEEELINGGGGSSSSSSS soup on a cold winter day ( n U n )
I also have extreme PTSD, ADHD, depression, chronic anxiety, inability to trust people, and suicidal thoughts. I have never tried to kill myself. If you'd like to know why,
::: spoiler here's why:
I was sexually harassed when I was 3 years old. By my father. I don't recall the exact things he did to me, but I remember bits and pieces. My mother was a drug addict, as was my father. She was later charged with possession of over 100 grams of cocaine and meth in the trunk of her car. She was sentenced to 5 years. She would take me to parties, often forgetting me when she left the house. A number of times I was left in my bed, the door locked, for several days. I was punished for everything and nothing I didn't do. My grandmother and uncle also lived in the same house. It was my grandmother's house. I was always bruised and sometimes left outside in the rain with no umbrella. I never went to preschool. My mother, according to my grandmother, was also sexually assaulted by her father. When she told her mother, she said something along the lines of: "Some things you have to do for family. And he's a good provider." When I was adopted, I was 7 years old. I had traveled over Seattle, Washington, to different foster homes and different foster families. I had been in 36 foster homes in the span of 4 years. They discarded of me, seeing that I was not fit for family life. I was damaged and unchangeable, in their eyes. What they saw became what I saw, and I constantly blamed myself for being placed in foster home after foster home, believing that I was not good enough for anybody, and undeserving of love. I was leftovers. A kid bought from Goodwill for 5 dollars, no refunds. Passed on to people with scary faces and even scarier voices. I could not make any friends, in fear of them seeing how broken and wrong I was. I was finally adopted by a family with a much younger, adopted boy. His name is Ashten, and he was my first younger brother. I still didn't feel accepted, but I felt like I was with people that would never throw me out, give me away, or hurt me. I did not know what love felt like, when I was 7.
Thia one goes deep, though. She's broken because she believed [that no one would put roofies in her drink]. He's okay because he [used his hand as a] lid.
This feels like the simpsons 'football to the groin' laugh and obvious explanation from Homer. For everyone watching, they aren't laughing with him, they are laughing at him.
I can totally believe this is made by a person, I just thought I left all those people behind when I abandoned Facebook.
42 replies
Sbren Sbeve
Sounds like the name of a Nordic business magnate.
Truly a philosophy to live by.
ahh, yes the Suburban Steve
"S bren s beve"
Such words of wisdom.
No no
I think there is a great distance between him and Oklahoma.
Sure, of course he lid, but I try to look for the deeper wisdom that can be harder to see.
Sbren sbeve is going to carved into my tombstone.
I hate this “no one” meme format. Nobody ever uses it correctly. I wished it would just die.
No one:
Almost everyone, actually, I think.
Clearly good for engagement, though.
Yeah, I agree. I couldn’t pass up that response, though!
we don’t bottle up our emotions, we pressure cook with a lid on our emotions.
And it works, in an hour you can have soft feeling beans and delicious emotion soup.
I always like a good homemade boul of AHHHHHH I FUCKING HATE MY FEELINGS PUSH THEM AWAY CANT SHOW EMOTION AHHHHHHH SHIT THE ONLY FEELING IM ALLOWED TO FEEL IS ANGER FUCKKKKKKK YOUUUUUU FEEEEELINGGGGSSSSSSS soup on a cold winter day ( n U n )
Sounds like a good, sarcastic critique of the traditionally masculine neglect of emotions.
Unfortunately for said critique, it fits into my pressure cooker~
Yes, emotional soup is what I'm going to be calling my internal state from now on
I also have extreme PTSD, ADHD, depression, chronic anxiety, inability to trust people, and suicidal thoughts. I have never tried to kill myself. If you'd like to know why,
::: spoiler here's why:
I was sexually harassed when I was 3 years old. By my father. I don't recall the exact things he did to me, but I remember bits and pieces. My mother was a drug addict, as was my father. She was later charged with possession of over 100 grams of cocaine and meth in the trunk of her car. She was sentenced to 5 years. She would take me to parties, often forgetting me when she left the house. A number of times I was left in my bed, the door locked, for several days. I was punished for everything and nothing I didn't do. My grandmother and uncle also lived in the same house. It was my grandmother's house. I was always bruised and sometimes left outside in the rain with no umbrella. I never went to preschool. My mother, according to my grandmother, was also sexually assaulted by her father. When she told her mother, she said something along the lines of: "Some things you have to do for family. And he's a good provider." When I was adopted, I was 7 years old. I had traveled over Seattle, Washington, to different foster homes and different foster families. I had been in 36 foster homes in the span of 4 years. They discarded of me, seeing that I was not fit for family life. I was damaged and unchangeable, in their eyes. What they saw became what I saw, and I constantly blamed myself for being placed in foster home after foster home, believing that I was not good enough for anybody, and undeserving of love. I was leftovers. A kid bought from Goodwill for 5 dollars, no refunds. Passed on to people with scary faces and even scarier voices. I could not make any friends, in fear of them seeing how broken and wrong I was. I was finally adopted by a family with a much younger, adopted boy. His name is Ashten, and he was my first younger brother. I still didn't feel accepted, but I felt like I was with people that would never throw me out, give me away, or hurt me. I did not know what love felt like, when I was 7.
I do now.
:::
Do you even lid, bro?
Me when I lid:
So difficult to keep up with the young ones' slang these days
Lid me up fam
https://inv.nadeko.net/watch?v=5pKt4gaErvU
Well, that was hilarious!
Any lids in chat?
Me!
I don't know about lids, but I know some pans...
sbren sbeve
Thia one goes deep, though. She's broken because she believed [that no one would put roofies in her drink]. He's okay because he [used his hand as a] lid.
I'm okay because I'm too poor to buy drinks in public.
Damn, where do you live? roofie Central? Little snt James?
useless nobody
sbrensbeve?
Obviously
I belive
🎶 she beve she beve 🎶 - ricky martin probably
Nothing like a good lid, so sturdy, yet able to vent vapour.
Is this on a cooking apron?
Stupid bot
This feels like the simpsons 'football to the groin' laugh and obvious explanation from Homer. For everyone watching, they aren't laughing with him, they are laughing at him.
I can totally believe this is made by a person, I just thought I left all those people behind when I abandoned Facebook.