I’ll go first…after 10 years of speculating in the market (read: gambling in high risk assets) I realized I shouldn’t ever touch a brokerage account in my lifetime. A monkey would have made better choices than I did. Greed has altered the course of life many times over. I am at an age where I may recover from my actions over the decades, but it has taken its toll. I am frugal and have a good head on me, but having such impulsivity in financial instruments was not how I envisioned my adulthood. Its a bitter pill to swallow, since money is livelihood of my family, but I need to “invest” all I have into relationships, meaningful moments, and fulfilling hobbies.
It’s easy to do when we’re all surrounded constantly by the paradox of money meaning nothing at all, but also the only material thing that dictates the action and activity of everything past and future
Biggest Pill I’ve had to swallow is that no matter much I love programming and will continue my computer hobbies for life. I will never make a profession out of it. I’m slowly coping with the fact that all my work will ultimately influence very nearly nothing at all…
You can do everything right that people taught you. But you only start living when you make mistakes, fuck up, and find the places where you belong, and a picture perfect life doesn’t bring you happiness; it’s rather shallow and lonely.
That paired with the realization that my mental disabilities will make me lonely for the rest of my life and there’s only so much I can do about it without having breakdowns.
For me, it was “saying no doesn’t make me a bad person.” I was raised around extremely Christian people who emphasized that you should be there for everyone, even at the expense of self.
The problem is, people eventually take advantage of you. Also, when you finally say “no” to them, they act as though you’re a terrible person.
I had this recently. My parents wanted me to make a full hour round trip drive across town to pick them up in the middle of the night so they could save $50 on a taxi. I said, “No,” as I have kids to look after now, and my mom launched into how I’m not family first anymore and after all the things she did for me as a kid, she can’t depend on me to pick her up.
I stuck to my guns though. They conned my brother with the same story, but I set a boundary.
I’ve experience this first hand, and watched it from the other side. My mother is extremely “Christian”, and that’s one of her phrases there. To her, people helping her became an expectation, not an act of kindness. She was a single mom, and so people around town would help her out. Like our local appliance guy, he’d give her a deal on a new dishwasher - and then she would push her luck and ask him to install it. And then start calling him directly when the slightest thing might be wrong with it. And then for other appliances. And then for random handiman stuff. She of course never repaid him for everything he did.
Because he’s a Christian, and so was she. So of course he was “happy” to do it for her. A few people eventually did tell her no, and she would immediately convince herself that they were bad people and that she “had to cut them out of her life” because of the negativity.
Since no one on here will ever know me…
It’s accepting that I have autism and that having autism is ok. My mom used “autistic” as an insult against me, the first time I remember was from age 5 as an attempt to control behavior she saw as undesirable. Running circles outside until I wore the grass out and flapping my hands about was something I needed to feel ashamed about according to her. And so I hid that and everything else she criticized so hard that I couldn’t accept that the reason I struggled so hard with a lot of things in my life wasn’t because I was just some innate failure but because I had an unaddressed condition that was she not only refused to help with but actively made worse.
To this day I still cannot do things like make eye contact, or tolerate being touched. But I’ve learned to not only accept myself for who I am, but accept that little boy who never understood why his own mother never seemed to be able to love him.
I’m a bitter, angry, mfer and I need to chill out sometimes
When people told me I was smart as a child/young adult, what they really meant was I was showcasing a skill they lacked, which the overwhelming majority of people don’t give a shit about an adult having.
That no matter how often people said it as a kid, I’m not capable of anything I put my mind to. I’m not smart, I’m very very mediocre at best, and my interests don’t align with my capabilities so my only options for work are things I don’t generally want to do.
I only really had 2 goals in life, a third developed later, and I’ve failed at all if them. I wanted to be in a loving relationship (going on 40 and have been single for the last decade), to not be the person who hates going to their job every day, and eventually I started wanting to own a home because I found that I need space for the hobbies I enjoyed. It’s a Sinatra song right, 0 out of 3 ain’t bad? Something like that… Lol
I once had an Excedrin get stuck in my throat sideways. That was a pretty uncomfortable several hours of my life.
I need to get a grip when driving and not let others upset me so easily.
That not only am I not a good person, it’s mostly impossible for a person to be truly good. Even knowing what good is, in its entirety, is nigh impossible. The best that can be done isn’t necessarily within my energy and/or skill.
There are wrongs that cannot meaningfully be righted.
Doing a little good some of the time is the most I can ever aspire to.
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For me it was the discovery that my parents were shitty people on the narcissism spectrum. I had no clue, because when you grow up in a toxic environment, it’s your “normal” and all you know.
That I didn’t know who I was. My lack of self awareness hampered my growth trajectory, my maturity, and relationships. My first failed marriage was a pinnacle of this issue. Though, fast forward 5 years, I’m a vastly different person, know who I am and what I want and where I want to end up. I feel guilty for my ex wife and the impact I had on them. I hope they’re happier where ever they may be.
That I actually do have a bad temper and do get angry very easily, that my anger does not justify my verbal/physical reactions (nor was I ‘right’ just because I was angry) and that these reactions will hurt those I care about/those I don’t care about but still didn’t deserve my violence, which is a surefire way to end up in jail (perhaps) and in Hell (more likely).
For everyone who has similar issues, try to remember two things:
- Ambiguous behaviour does not mean aggressive behaviour.
- The flesh is weak. If you, in your anger, start a fight and perhaps just push someone and they crack their head and die/lose function, you’ll never live it down, you will always be the guy who killed someone in anger (and not even righteous anger, you’re just temperamental). And it can happen very quickly too! A good man cannot live with that, only a hell-bound one can, so either you’ll be oppressed by your guilt or you’ll realize you’ve lost your humanity and you’re a full on psycho.
