What would happen if it happened

 

  I find that thinking about a potential present that will never happen is extremely toxic - a person wastes time thinking about things they could or should have done, but for some reason didn't, and then become obsessed with how things could have been different now, leaving them to mourn a missed opportunity that in reality might not have taken them in the direction they envisioned. It reminds me of most of these folk songs that are played on the radio where the singer laments about "lost love", wishing they could turn back time and be with that same person again, who in real life might already have a family and a stable life, probably leaving that relationship somewhere in the past. I have no doubt that this often happens in real life too, people remember old relationships (or friendships or whatever else) and then realize that this person was good to them but they didn't notice it (or the circumstances were such that there was a breakup/loss of contact), then they start to cry over them or, even worse, to try again at any cost to return everything to the way it was, which automatically involves interfering in the life of that other person. In the best case, two such lonely people find each other and actually manage to restore their relationship, in the worst cases we have divorces of long-term marriages (even marriages with children), threats, stalking, difficult feelings after meeting again, despair, even the death of one of them in the case of mentaly unstable persons. As for me personally, I don't have that problem of nostalgia for people, on the contrary, I'm usually the one who cuts off contacts that are part of the past in order to concentrate on the present and the future, and I don't know how to communicate with people without it leaving a deep impression on me because their problems/opinions/whatever they say or write stay in my brain, so I think about that as well. If I overload my brain with those people (either in a positive sense, but mostly in a negative sense), then I get into an anxious state where I have the need to run away from all people because I can no longer bear anyone's presence in my brain, as if all those people are constantly next to me and the only way to escape is to completely remove them from me, which I do on the Internet in a symbolic way by deleting all followers. Most of the people I know in real life are from the period when I went to school, and as I had very unpleasant experiences during schooling, I think it is not the best idea to stay in that period and remind myself of people and events from that era; although it is probably the only period in which I had constant interaction with others (without almost complete isolation like in my twenties) and as such it can be a topic of conversation with some people who were part of those interactions, it is certainly not good for my brain which has other priorities in the present time. I know that I have already written something similar, but somehow I keep coming back to it precisely because of my negative habit of disappearing without explanation, which brings its own consequences that sometimes reach me. At best, people don't care and don't notice my absence (some earlier stories say that it hurts when no one notices, but as an older person I realize it's a blessing), at worst they want explanations or get angry about it, and I don't feel that I owe nothing to anyone just because I don't feel like communicating anymore - there are a little more than eight billion people on this planet, quite enough to find a better interlocutor and friend than me, I am no longer capable of being anyone's friend or anything else. In any case, it was not my intention to repeat the thoughts from the article from the spring of 2021 (it just came by itself as one person from my childhood is stalking me on the social media and that's suffocating me, I feel like killing myself right away to escape from her as she won't leave me alone), I'm probably too much psychoanalyzing lyrics of the folk songs from the radio (which I play for my father to entertain him since he can't walk much due to illness), reminded me that I identify more with that unknown person about whom the song is sung, than with the one who sings. Well, most of those lyrics are fiction - I read somewhere that ALL lyrics are fiction, I want to exclude quite a few of my own autobiographical songs because, you know, some of us songwriters don't just write what other people will like and we don't write mostly about "safe" topics like love, here in metal there is a whole spectrum of controversial and insufficiently treated topics, whether it happens to others or we ourselves are actors in it. So I often write about self-destruction, with suicide as a frequent topic of songs, and I try to do it as realistically as possible and without embellishing and romanticizing it. I write about blood, about pain, about all those uncontrolled thoughts and emotions that eat your brain alive, or about the lack of any feeling, about society and its behavior not only towards you, but also towards some unknown individual who may have a different problem than you, but they is also discriminated from society. My texts are not only about me, I often address "them" - "they" are all those people, many of whom I don't even know and probably will never meet, who, with their patterns of behavior and their own beliefs, want to determine for others what is moral and right and what is not, and that anyone who turns a deaf ear to their vision of the world is ostracized from society, giving themselves the right to make life even more difficult for that rejected individual with ridicule, mental and physical harassment, and discrimination. Yes, I have written about it quite a few times, but it is one of the topics that I consider very important for human civilization, and which will someday (again) cost millions of lives when that SOMEONE decides that he is more important than some group of people and wants to eliminate them from his vision of an ideal world.

  I usually delete almost all messages after the end of the conversation, both for the privacy of the other person and myself, and to free up space and sort messages, so I got to old messages from a few years ago that I avoided deleting earlier because I thought I will need it. Among other things, there was also a message about the ad for a band that I posted a few years ago, it's ironic that two bands from the part of the country I moved from contacted me - I was looking for the current municipality because I wouldn't have the money to go to rehearsals in another place and I'm not able to move away for the band, but no one from the area has contacted me after I moved. I didn't have success with that and I don't regret it because in the meantime I started self-publishing my acapella works and some newer songs with music, and in addition I have full creative freedom and I don't share the copyright of my own songs in case the band breaks up, the more time passes I have a growing aversion to that whole "music industry" because it sounds so programmed and artificial that I don't want to become a part of it and to have someone else create my personality and life according to what will best sell to the masses. Although I am in a difficult financial situation, I would not sell the rights to the works, I would rather give up one by one the material things that I sell over the Internet than to sell pieces of my soul, my psyche and my ideas to someone else, I don't have to ever be "successful" in this because that's not my intention, I'm just sharing my most precious thing with the void that maybe some soul who likes some of it wanders into (thanks in advance). Back to the messages; after deleting those few unfeasible offers, I was left with a message from the spring of 2014 that was my introduction to the whole looking for a band thing. That spring, I still had a month or two left to finish high school, so the news that a symphonic metal band was looking for a female vocalist came as a surprise. In the message, I wrote that I was interested and that I was also thinking about going to university (specifically, I was interested in the Higher School of Design in a nearby town, since I'm doing well in design), I don't understand how I came to the point of deliberately not studying for the final test to fail so I can retake it later when things calm down because the whole mess has become unbearable (which didn't work because I passed the test with a grade of two (equal to D in American system) instead of failing the test). Maybe I thought there was nothing from the band because they asked me for a recording, and I didn't have the opportunity to provide it to them, so at that time I also posted an ad looking for members for an author band, my memory is weak and I have no idea what happened that spring, it doesn't even matter. I don't think I missed the chance of a lifetime either for that band or for the university, but that message from nine years ago made me think - what could have been done differently? I didn't want to fall into the "what if" trap and torture my soul for decisions that could have been different, especially since I believe that we make current decisions according to current circumstances, but I could never tell my brain to stop thinking about to a topic that bothers me, so this one wasn't exception. Would I have been able to finish college if I had tried, or was I right that my mental state was too unstable for that? Would I be able to become and stay part of a band, would it work? Why didn't I better plan a way to end my life earlier, when (from this perspective) I had a better opportunity than now when I hardly leave the house? I know that I acted with having every circumstance in mind and that I chose the solution that was the most favorable at that moment, I usually do not make spontaneous and thoughtless decisions even when I have that period of "spontaneity" - even those decisions were considered for a while, only that under the influence of chaotic thoughts, I hurry to do it all as soon as possible, and then that euphoria or paranoia (it depends on the situation) just as quickly disappears. So, it wasn't a problem in my several decisions, and I don't regret any of them. The problem is other people's reckless decisions that have led us to long-term poverty.

  During my childhood, I didn't think about finances, although I wasn't demanding when it came to material things because I knew how to be happy with both new and second-hand things, even my doll Katarina was second-hand and her hair was missing. Unfortunately, my parents made many bad financial decisions and bad investments, often under the influence of other people (except for the thieves who took their money through the courts for things they were PROVEN not guilty of - they finished us off and it looks like we'll never get compensation for that). Now they also regret why we didn't invest earlier in the house where we are now, but back in time the godfather was given a thousand maraka (money used in Yugoslavia during 90's, it was worth more than euros, idk how to translate it) for blocks to build a half-floor, but those blocks never arrived, he barely returned less than a third of the money (hardly will ever return it to us even now that we have no bread in the house). They were offered to move abroad and continue working there, they refused - given that my father is an experienced craftsman, we would probably get rich, with the fact that money is the least of the problems in this whole story, I can already understand that it would be too much of a change and maybe it's better that they didn't go, I wouldn't go abroad now either if I had the chance. They had the opportunity to invest money in a house in another place, or in a better truck (but they gave money to my father's brother for a truck that was constantly missing something, as a child I pushed both the car and the truck together with my mother). And so, by the time I got to some grades of elementary school there was less and less money; when it was necessary to help others it was always possible, but the child's future was not thought of. So in the seventh grade, I wore second-hand shoes for the elderly (and I am grateful to the person who gave them to me so that I had something to go to school in, at that time that person helped us a lot to survive), mostly second-hand clothes, I did not spend money for nothing but basic things for school. They even spent time and money on the politics; in the early 2000s I was often on their meetings, until late at night when I should have slept, because my father was in an important position, so they had to be present, and in the end they were kinda driven away by people who wanted their position so nothing came of it. They also managed to get removed from the municipal board of another party they founded in the town where we lived, shortly after they rented the meeting rooms, they haven't dealt with the parties since then and I hope they never will again, they got too upset about it. They got into all that based on other people's ideas, on the one hand they gained a lot of contacts (and potential customers), and on the other hand they didn't concentrate on more important topics. When I was little, they had to take me everywhere, even to rallies, because they could rarely take me to someone to look after me; when I reached the age of ten I stayed home alone more and more often, because of the bad relations with the neighbors I didn't even go to the yard much until my parents were home. I had a kind of phobia to even get close to the two-meter wall that the "neighbor" built, I was never even allowed to play with the ball because for two days they didn't want to return the ball to me when it fell in their yard. His son often dropped a ball at our place, he jumped over the fence and entered our yard to pick it up wherever it fell, and no one said anything, while I lived in fear of even approaching the border. I am moving away from the topic, I know, I recently had a short conversation with a woman from the village, she found it strange that I don't go out anywhere and have no friends. Well, maybe it would have been different if we had moved away from such a neighborhood in time. Admittedly, we came from one hell to another, only the first neighbors here are relatives who can't stand us coming here. For one sibling I'm "some girl who came from somewhere", for the other I was fat since childhood (it's better to be fat than to usurp the house and property of our grandmother whom he did not respect and who he cursed, the seriously ill woman begged him not to hit ball against her wall and he was doing it on purpose); the father's brother is a story in itself - he has such a dislike for us and despises us for coming because he used our property without asking and has always been hostile towards my father (he even kicked us out before grandma's funeral when he started a fight); grandfather was a sociopath who kicked my father from the time he started to walk, he also kicked other son who died at the age of one and a half (maybe from those injuries, who knows), beat my grandmother, forced my father to work from an early age, gave my father the obligation to look after his two brothers and to support the family, and later that same father of mine was driven to that damned city from where we came here again because we had no place, grandfather still lied that he bought me sound equipment and that he built houses and here and there (and the people do not feel the difference between lies and truth, but believe the one who seems more believable). I feel that parents should have informed me better about the overall condition of the property - I would advise them to sell this property and the fields in this village (which we sold to get electricity in this house) and add to the money from the sale of the house, even with the price for which we sold the house it would be enough to buy a stable house with electricity and water, buildings in the yard (shed, barn, etc.) and a property for growing food, maybe with at least some kind of bathroom (or at least a stable outside toilet, when we came here my father made an improvised one with boards that were not nailed down well and everything was in a decaying phase, we couldn't use it when someone was around so they wouldn't see us). Anything more than that would be a luxury, it's enough if we had as much as we had before (only in a different location, of course), the conditions were more modest, but it was enough for the three of us. The only thing I specifically miss is that we had more variety of food there throughout the year, even if it was expired; now I don't even know what to prepare anymore because there is no food except some vegetables from the freezer, even the cheapest foods are a big expense. This year is the worst so far because everything has become more expensive and I'm worried about how things will go, soon there may not even be bread in the house and the first seasonal jobs will only start in more than a month; the bigger problem for me is that the animals will starve because I can't explain to them that there is no food, they are unbearable even though I feed them regularly and I am afraid that they will get worse.

  I dreamed as a child that one day I would have a house where I could keep things tidy and where I could put decorations, I tried here too, but the house quickly turned into a warehouse that could not be kept tidy. I never liked a house in a bigger city, on the contrary, if we had another opportunity to buy a house, it would be perhaps even a little further from the inhabited place. If the conditions in the hills were not so difficult in the winter, it would be a favorable place for the rest of my life, but also a more remote village would be a solid choice, I have in mind that my mental state has deteriorated a lot so it would be suitable for me to live at least the rest of my life in a place where I can go to nature, anyway, I spent my whole life mostly in the house, so as long as I live - it's enough. I am aware that I will not be cured just like that, especially since I am causing more and more brain damage, at least I would have some chance to calm my psychotic thoughts because there would not be so many people around me to encourage them. Admittedly, my parents throw in the idea of keeping animals for food, which immediately puts me in anxiety because it tears my soul even when I see pigs and sheep crying as they are driven to the market (and will soon be slaughtered), let alone taking care of animal and to watch it being killed and butchered. My parents always get angry with me when I say I don't want it, they immediately say that "something have to be kept in the countryside" and similar things, and they are right, but then I don't have the will to think about it any further. The only "what if" scenarios will remain the scenarios of my suicide in my stories and thoughts because it calms me down to think about it, even about some that have no chance of ever happening, and imagining what would have happened if we did it differently doesn't bother me. Who cares, they don't bring me anything but anxiety anyway, I have plenty of that even like this. Will there be an opportunity to change my place of residence in the future - I honestly doubt it (unless I'm the only one leaving because of work, I applied for "My First Salary" in the fall, but didn't have money for transportation or an apartment), who knows what will happen with father's illness, so any planning of major changes is out of the question. It's not worth whining about my or my parents' missed opportunities, time doesn't come back and regretting the past wastes energy that is needed for current problems. I willingly go back in time only for the already mentioned suicide scenarios (such as in the story "Buried in the Past" and "It will never get better" - congratulations for 11th "Anniversary of Doom", btw - as well as several versions of my daydreams about it), I am not mainly interested about the rest. That's at least one positive thing about my disturbed psyche, I learned that nostalgia is a non-consistent and subjective feeling (eg when someone regrets some "better times for the country", "a time when women were natural and feminine, and men were masculine" and such things that turn into hyperbole and have no connection with reality), while despair over missed chances is a waste of time. The exception is the moments and people you want to remember, like that saying "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened" - it's worth making room for them, not to despair that they've passed, but to simulate the feeling of well-being we had then. For example, what people often do is this - if a person bought you some candy and you loved that person, you will associate that product with them and you will feel nostalgic when you see that product. That's how it is with "Rum Cassato" for me; I bought one box to dedicate for my grandmother's soul (*our old custom when we "dedicate" food for people who passed away) after I dreamed of her grave and the way I was handing out that cake - the taste is the same as the one she bought for me, but something seemed to be missing, as if that connection with my childhood and my grandmother had been lost. That's why it's not a good idea to completely lose contact with everything from the past, in order to have at least such memories that are worth remembering, I almost completely forgot the few good memories because these bad memories suppressed them, or they were "extended" by something negative (as that something from memory was later destroyed). As far as I'm concerned, I don't need anything anymore, wish that on the first of March this year I can finish what I started ten years ago on that day, those are the only missed opportunities that I regret because in the present, even though I'm twenty-seven years old, as if I am still a child who depends on my parents and has no life of my own, and yet as if I am their mother who takes care of them, with health problems like that of an old person. All people know is to say how we should get independent in such a situation, but whenever I talk about it they always jump in, that we'll go together. As I write there is ME and these are my current thoughts and point of view, but in reality it is WE, everything I say and what bothers me will be used against me at some point. That ME only exists while I'm writing, in reality I have to control my personality so I don't cause problems, I despise myself for allowing myself to come to this. Someone else would regret not going to treatment in time, in my case it was not even possible because my life never belonged to me - the only thing I fought for was the freedom not to enter into relationships and marriage unions, as well as the freedom to dress the way I do (I don't count food because being a vegetarian saves meat products for them, so there is a mutual benefit because we are poor anyway), and from time to time they blame me for that as well, as if THEY ALLOWED AND TOLERATED me with all that, and that I am ungrateful and want too much. My life has never been in my hands, and from the outside it seems like I have complete freedom. More and more often, the sick father whom I take care of for months gets angry with me and demands that we show up immediately whenever he needs something, even if we wake up in the middle of the night, and then he insults me in such a way that makes me think about why I allowed myself to come here; luckily that I got brain damage from hitting my head hard, so I easily get over everything - who will take care of him if not me. I owe him, I owe everyone something. I guess God will take me when I pay off those debts, I don't want to pay for other people's mistakes anymore. What would happen if it happened... Maybe it's better that I don't know, what already happened was too much for me.