This weekend my grandma drove me up to sac-town and I found out I don’t fit in with my family. We went out to dinner tonight to this fancy Moroccan restaurant complete with belly dancer’s. Half way thru the 2nd course, my alcohol withdraw really kicked in and pretty much ruined my night. I couldn’t eat anymore e end though I knew my body needed the nourishment. Had to go outside a couple times to cool down whenever I was about to shout out at the whole restaurant: “you stupid mother fucking techies with your kaki shorts, boat shoes and polo shirted cunts who overprotect their children and only speak code in conversation can all go to hell!”
My mom and grandma knew of my internal struggle but I cold shouldered them all till I couldn’t take it anymore. On the ride home I told them and when they asked if they could help but think that I was worthless and not wort the bother. Obviously this is the wrong mentality and I know it but at the same time I think that I deserve this pain for the fucked up things that I’ve done to myself and others in life. When I got back I smoked a couple of spliffs and now am writing this.
Don’t know what to do
Edit:my grandma just told me that she knows how hard family gatherings can be and that she’s proud of me for coming. She’s the best grandmother in the world
“you shouldn’t be depressed, people have it worse than you”
finally, after years of searching, the person with the worst life ever is found. formally, they are granted permission to be sad. but only them. only they have earned it. no sads for anyone else at all ever
Say you can’t be sad when someone has it worse is like saying you can be happy because someone has it better.