Tumgik
#when I get a bare minimum afternoon of nothing I will spend it making sims worlds and not talking to people
starfxckersinc · 1 year
Text
and continuing lol it’s a privilege to even have music lessons or have any of the shit that I have. I’m very privileged. but I’m extremely aware of it (or I try to be) and im very open about it. and that’s not to be like oh damn look at me I literally just think it’s what people are owed. like “oh I can’t sing” ok my parents paid for me to take singing lessons for 10 years. “oh my recording equipment is my phone” That’s ok the cheapest ur gonna get for home equipment is 130 bucks, 60-70 on sale. like yeah it’s fine. there’s just so much shit that tiktok ppl will fucking believe and not question bc someone is pretty and processed and it incenses me. like no when ur a struggling musician u don’t have time to film makeup tutorials; ur fucking working all day. goddamn
3 notes · View notes
mindless-noise · 4 years
Text
Losing the love of my life to booze and video games.
I've been drinking heavily since I started, something like 10 years ago. I smoked, I drank, I snorted, but mostly, and steadily, and desperately, I drank. I drank while working nights inrestaurants and bars. I drank the night away after the shift, trying to wind down. I drank the afternoons after working day shifts in restaurants. I drank on my days off, cause why not, and I drank after school, cause that's what you do. When you're addicted, that is. I quit most other drugs, quit cocaine, quit MDMA, but I kept drinking. I never addressed it.Maybe four or five years ago, I started gaming a lot. Dota 2, Half-Life, Counter-Strike, Diablo 2, Path of Exile. That last one has a fitting name. I figured I'd rather be gaming than imbibing god-knows-what harmful chemical my friends would have the brilliant idea of ordering. I figured it was any better. I thought it was better for me to isolate myself, game until the wee hours of the morning, and to down a 12-pack simultaneously, than it was to go out. I made myself believe that. And then I met her. I was fucked.My ex-wife moved in with me very quickly. We were madly in love, and she was staying with her parents when we met, so we naturally spent a lot of time at my place, drinking beer, wine, listening to music, making love. We went out a lot. We were always up for a sesh at the bar. She nearly flunked her Uni semester cause of the wild fucking weeks we were having. My roommate and I were parting ways in September anyways, and so it made perfect sense than R. and I would find a nice cosy Villeray apartment for the 2 of us, even though our friends were warning us not to move too fast. I was intending on going back to school, to study computer science. But I kept gaming, and I kept drinking, alone, or not. At some point, she realised what she had gotten herself into. She'd go to sleep cause of morning obligations : school, work, sport. You know, real life. I stayed up. Almost every night. Gaming. Sometimes I'd tell myself I'd take it easy and I wouldn't drink, or drink just a bit. I'd still end up going to bed past 2 or 3 am. I could smoke a gram and a half of weed, thinking "hey at least I'm not drinking".  Such is the mind of an addict. I ended up dropping CS a couple weeks into the semester. It has been a grim pattern in my life to drop stuff before completion. I ended up quitting my job that winter, and I spent the next six months just wallowing in my own shit, gaming, drinking and eating fast food. This was only the first of a couple bouts of me trying to get into something, then quitting abruptly, without telling her or anyone beforehand. I'd tell her with bloody hands "Hey, I quit my job" or "Hey, I dropped out of school". She hated not having any idea of what the fuck was going on with me.She saw the empty cases. She smelled it on my breath. She felt it on my skin. At this point I knew my limits well enough that I wasn't completely disfunctional hungover every morning. But I'd be late for work, at least half the time. I'd botch my school assignments. I'd order takeaway. She'd be the sunshine of my life getting ready for her day being excited for what was to come, telling me about her classes, her dreams, her ambitions, and I'd lay there, disheveled half-hungover asshole. I'd be that cynical snarky know-it-all who doesn't do shit but complain. For two and a half years.I stopped seeing my friends. My mind was being completely consumed by the holy trinity of work, relationship and substance/game abuse. I'd let them go through rough patches, barely caring. I'd let them spend months abroad without a message. I'd go for months without a ring. My wife was going through some shit on her own, issues with body image and food, and she had denounced her teenage abuser to the police, so her stress and anxiety levels were pretty high. I tried to help her cope by listening, making dinner, watching tv shows, etc. I thought I was doing a good job, turns out I was doing too much of the bare minimum. She needed excitement, she needed culture. She needed to share interests with me, to go out, to see the world, to laugh, to dance, to cry. I didn't catch on. I was so invested in my own little virtual worlds I didn't understand when she told me she needed me to take less care of her and more of myself. I didn't know what that meant. I thought I was happy doing the things I was doing. I knew it pained her to see me abuse alcohol and investing so much time and energy in video games. I thought things would pass. I thought a way would find me. I thought we'd be fine.At one point, in an attempt to connect with me, she agreed to install Steam on her computer. We added each other as friends, and she downloaded the Sims and Dota 2. Now the problem with being friends with your wife on steam is she can see just how many hours you've sank in the past few weeks on various games. It shows on your profile, and it weirdly feels like a badge of "real gamer" of sorts. She didn't fathom how fucking far gone I was, I don't think. Eighty-five hours in the past few weeks, she said. She didn't comment on it much. She laughed nervously and we moved on to something else, like a dying couple does. For the record, I have over 5 000 hours recorded on that game, and over a thousand on Path of Exile. That's over 4 or 5 years, not much more. It's like I've had a full time job gaming and gaining nothing but fucking points. I had given my old steam account to my youngest brother Z., a couple years prior. I'd have to ask him how many more hours played I had on various games, namely Counter-Strike 1.6. It can't be under the thousands. We never did end up playing Dota 2 together. I don't blame her. She had seen me raging on the microphone because complete strangers didn't play the way I wanted. She knew how hard and involved the game was. She wasn't interested in it. She was just grasping at straws, trying to find a way to connect with me.I am now forty pounds over what I was when we met. I wasn't the most jacked dude you'd ever seen, but at 185-190 pounds and 6 feet, I was relatively lean. I remember having some amount of muscle definition, around the abs and arms and such. Now I have a real goddamn beer gut, fat drooping from where my pecs are supposed to be. I had to change almost all of my clothes. She tried and tried so hard not to fat-shame me, but how the fuck are you supposed to love the fat fucking mess I was becoming while she was hustling at school, at work and at the gym, looking better and better and getting closer to her goals every day? Needless to say, our sex life took a huge hit. In the last year we probably had one or two sexual encounters a month, if not less. I'm not saying I'd fuck me, either. And when we did have sex, my stamina was a fraction of what it was 2 years prior.Now she tried to give me an ultimatum a couple weeks ago. She said she couldn't bear living with my sorry ass anymore, if I didn't do something about it. I told her I'd curb my drinking, which I sort of did. I didn't change jack about my day-to-day habits, though. Most days, I'd still woke up, have a coffee watching some useless shit about video games on my laptop, gamed a while, ate late cause I was doing "intermittent fasting" - which by the way doesn't count if you don't at least try to eat healthily when you do eat, gamed some more, etc. And then some nights I'd kiss her sweet dreams and relapse and drink a case of beer, trying to hide it the best I could. But if she didn't know in her rational brain, she knew in her heart that things weren't working out. I wasn't making the necessary changes to become a husband you can think about the future with, to succeed in my own life, at school, at work. I didn't get it.Fast forward to last Monday, when she  finally couldn't bear the weight of this relationship with me. She left. And instantly, I knew. I knew I had fucked up so much for so long. But it took a couple days to accept it. I was angry, I was furious.I told her I'd be staying in the apartment for as long as I needed to find a new place, and that she wasn't welcome, and that it wasn't my problem. I told her I didn't care if my attitude hurt her : "Tough luck", I said.Jesus fuck, dude.We spoke yesterday, on the phone. For two hours, a painful, slow, emotive conversation. One of those you never want to have.One of those you wish you could have avoided by being better than you were. I told her I'd change. I told her I'd do anything to be with her. You know, the usual. It feels like such a cliché but it's fucking real. I've never loved a woman like I love her. I knew in my heart I wanted her to have my babies, one day. I was set and I fucked it up so bad by not caring, not listening. Fuck.I brought her flowers today, at the Uni. with a hand-written note, saying that I'm sorry and that I'm going to get help. That I would give anything for another chance at us. I believe it, though I'm not sure that she does. After I had made her late for class I left, and I called for help. I have an appointment on Monday morning with a social worker, to evaluate my needs. I won't let the pain of her being gone prevent this valuable lesson to help me. I wish with all my heart that she finds her way to me, somehow. I'll be working hard, regardless.I can't live this way. Anymore.
0 notes