Foreword: I'll probably regret this later. This started out as a paragraph but I'm tired as fuck and ranting a bit. Feels good to get this off my chest, anyhow.
So here I am, sitting at my laptop after a testing day of work, in the middle of an existential moment, when I get an email. It's a PM from a concerned member of b12, containing an admirably coherent calm-rant on his feelings toward some of my posts. Specifically, how most of my posts seem to be about cars, money, good relationships, work, and other things which many people on this forum sadly are struggling with. The member (who I will not name) was concerned that some of those posts would harbor bad feelings among 'less-privileged' members, and admitted to sometimes being made uncomfortable himself. The tl;dr was, in essence, 'This isn't a forum to brag about shit on.'
First off, if I have offended anyone or otherwise caused discomfort, I sincerely apologize. At no point was it my intention. Let's just make that clear.
Second, I have problems like anyone else. I could talk about how I have to deal with depression, bipolar, aspergers, the lot. I could talk about how I tried to kill myself on numerous occasions. I could talk about how I still struggle with that, and how a close friend probably saved my life last week. I have a happy and fulfilling relationship, which is a touchy subject here, but that's after having my former partner pass away suddenly a few years ago, which I couldn't cry about because I had to hide that relationship from nearly everyone.
I don't talk about those things because, well, it makes me feel bad. That's also why I don't deliver much advice on issues which I'm very familiar with. I don't think I have anything good to say, because I have pretty unique outlooks on basically everything, which typically don't help more conventional mindsets.
Third and last, here's some other stuff that you probably don't care about, but provides insight into, well, me.
You see a teapot, I see arranged pieces of stamped and cold-formed 14 gauge A2 Stainless steel, folded and welded in certain places to make an object capable of storing and dispensing fluids at high temperatures. I guess you could call me materialistic, but that's more a product of my extreme mechanical inclination. That's why I like making and fixing things. And that leaks out into my posts, I guess. But that's my life. I really can't help it.
I graduated from high school with an acceptance letters from some very prestigious universities. My grades and GPA were never great but I had other things going for me. I turned them down, because I simply couldn't stand sitting and doing nothing for four years. I take life as it comes, not knowing how much of it I have left. I'm living comfortably enough not by riding some college degree, but being smart and working my ass off. Doing anything from restoring and selling old cars, to working as a machinist, and even MC'ing some events at this year's local Maker Faire. It's not easy. After taking a shower every day, I feel like I just survived some strange greasy bar fight where everything was doused in motor oil and wielding ballpoint pens with a little nub of sandpaper on the other end. I love every minute of it, though.
So, welp, I think that's it. Venting is done.
Back to rebuilding a carburetor.