I know this sounds like a really strange—even silly—question, but I’ve been thinking about how society actually seems to ADORE the idea of the state, both in the media and in its daily activities.

Take the figure of the police officer, for example, and how the media portrays them as this heroic figure fighting against “evil.”

Of course, we’re aware of corruption within law enforcement, but it seems like most people dream of reforming the force ("I want only good cops"), rather than its disappearance.

The same is true of other systems of domination, where people don’t dream of a free, stateless world, but instead call for the state to “improve.”

This leads me to wonder: If the population is so attached to these customs, what resources or thinkers can I turn to so as not to lose hope in the anarchist project?

I live in a family environment with a lot of emotional abuse.

My grandmother is a narcissist and a control freak, and my mother is emotionally immature, with very low self-esteem, but she’s also a narcissist, with a strong victim complex.

And with a mindset that's very focused on material things and money.

On top of that, her advice regarding my grandmother's abuse is "ignore her, and don't fight with her," and then she takes her side, portraying me as the worst son and grandson.

I’m focusing on my mom because, even though my grandmother is abusive too, I consider her a lost cause. But until recently, I had an almost friendly relationship with my mom, and now she wants to start spending time together again, ignoring all the bad stuff.

That’s why I’ve decided to isolate myself and talk to them as little as possible.

Yesterday, she and I had an argument (like many before), during which, when I mentioned that I feel like my concerns aren’t being heard, mother resorts to saying things like:

"You're the one who decided not to talk to me!" Even though I've cut myself off from her precisely because she never listens and talking to her is torture—unless it's just to entertain her.

"Why don't you take it up with your father?!" — He hasn't lived with us for a long time.

"You're just throwing a tantrum!"

And other things, besides trying to manipulate my memories, telling me that I also said things to her that didn't happen the way she says they did.

Then she starts crying and tells me she loves me very much, that family is the only thing we have, and that she’s sorry if she ever disrespected me. She even hugs me, crying.

It’s worth noting that, as I said, this isn’t the first conversation we’ve had like this, only for things to stay the same afterward.

I can’t help but feel that it’s a tactic of manipulation and guilt, like giving a child a lollipop to stop them from crying.

More, if we consider that there were many moments when she tried to turn the argument in her favor: "I have worries too that you don't care about, and I'm the one who brings home the money!"

"I have problems too! A problem with my chest!"—That does worry me, though I don't know if it's real.

Or by rubbing all the good things she's done right in my face, as if that were a way to shut me up.

And what’s almost funny is that she was crying and telling me she’d try her best to make things better, but then she abruptly ended the conversation with “Just a minute, I’m going to the bathroom”—only to never come back, but instead go off to chat very cordially with her friends. Wow.

I don’t know, I see the signs, but I think her manipulation works, because she manages to make me feel a twinge of guilt for wanting to stay upset with her...

What do you think?

I live in a family environment with a lot of emotional abuse.

My grandmother is a narcissist and a control freak, and my mother is emotionally immature, with very low self-esteem, but she’s also a narcissist, with a strong victim complex.

And with a mindset that's very focused on material things and money.

On top of that, her advice regarding my grandmother's abuse is "ignore her, and don't fight with her," and then she takes her side, portraying me as the worst son and grandson.

That’s why I’ve decided to isolate myself and talk to them as little as possible.

Yesterday, she and I had an argument (like many before), during which, when I mentioned that I feel like my concerns aren’t being heard, mother resorts to saying things like:

"You're the one who decided not to talk to me!" Even though I've cut myself off from her precisely because she never listens and talking to her is torture—unless it's just to entertain her.

"Why don't you take it up with your father?!" — He hasn't lived with us for a long time.

"You're just throwing a tantrum!"

And other things, besides trying to manipulate my memories, telling me that I also said things to her that didn't happen the way she says they did.

Then she starts crying and tells me she loves me very much, that family is the only thing we have, and that she’s sorry if she ever disrespected me. She even hugs me, crying.

It’s worth noting that, as I said, this isn’t the first conversation we’ve had like this, only for things to stay the same afterward.

I can’t help but feel that it’s a tactic of manipulation and guilt, like giving a child a lollipop to stop them from crying.

More, if we consider that there were many moments when she tried to turn the argument in her favor: "I have worries too that you don't care about, and I'm the one who brings home the money!"

"I have problems too! A problem with my chest!"—That does worry me, though I don't know if it's real.

And what’s almost funny is that she was crying and telling me she’d try her best to make things better, but then she abruptly ended the conversation with “Just a minute, I’m going to the bathroom”—only to never come back, but instead go off to chat very cordially with her friends. Wow.

I don’t know, I see the signs, but I think her manipulation works, because she manages to make me feel a twinge of guilt for wanting to stay upset with her...

What do you think?

I live in a family environment with a lot of emotional abuse.

My grandmother is a narcissist and a control freak, and my mother is emotionally immature, with very low self-esteem, but she’s also a narcissist, with a strong victim complex.

And with a mindset that's very focused on material things and money.

On top of that, her advice regarding my grandmother's abuse is "ignore her, and don't fight with her," and then she takes her side, portraying me as the worst son and grandson.

That’s why I’ve decided to isolate myself and talk to them as little as possible.

Yesterday, she and I had an argument (like many before), during which, when I mentioned that I feel like my concerns aren’t being heard, mother resorts to saying things like:

"You're the one who decided not to talk to me!" Even though I've cut myself off from her precisely because she never listens and talking to her is torture—unless it's just to entertain her.

"Why don't you take it up with your father?!" — He hasn't lived with us for a long time.

"You're just throwing a tantrum!"

And other things, besides trying to manipulate my memories, telling me that I also said things to her that didn't happen the way she says they did.

Then she starts crying and tells me she loves me very much, that family is the only thing we have, and that she’s sorry if she ever disrespected me. She even hugs me, crying.

It’s worth noting that, as I said, this isn’t the first conversation we’ve had like this, only for things to stay the same afterward.

I can’t help but feel that it’s a tactic of manipulation and guilt, like giving a child a lollipop to stop them from crying.

More, if we consider that there were many moments when she tried to turn the argument in her favor: "I have worries too that you don't care about, and I'm the one who brings home the money!"

"I have problems too! A problem with my chest!"—That does worry me, though I don't know if it's real.

And what’s almost funny is that she was crying and telling me she’d try her best to make things better, but then she abruptly ended the conversation with “Just a minute, I’m going to the bathroom”—only to never come back, but instead go off to chat very cordially with her friends. Wow.

I don’t know, I see the signs, but I think her manipulation works, because she manages to make me feel a twinge of guilt for wanting to stay upset with her...

What do you think?

For financial reasons (or, to put it another way, due to the predatory practices of this industry), I can only afford to see a specialist once a month.

I speak as someone who suffers from generalized anxiety and emotional neglect.

I would like to ask that any advice you offer please stay within my financial means and not steer me toward seeking other, more frequent options.

For financial reasons (or, to put it another way, due to the predatory practices of this industry), I can only afford to see a specialist once a month.

I speak as someone who suffers from generalized anxiety and emotional neglect.

I would like to ask that any advice you offer please stay within my financial means and not steer me toward seeking other, more frequent options.

I see this as closely tied to how mental health and/or mental faculties are viewed as secondary to physical health in the collective imagination.

In other words, if you don’t have some kind of physical difference or limitation, people assume you’re capable of achieving anything that others can do, without taking your psychological makeup into account at all.

This is an annoying bias, and it seems to me a bit dangerous, because it makes it all too easy to dismiss mental health issues: Scenarios like "If you're depressed or anxious, it's entirely your fault"

"Chronic loneliness has absolutely nothing to do with social exclusion"

"The system is perfect, and your problems are entirely your own responsibility"

I see this as closely tied to how mental health and/or mental faculties are viewed as secondary to physical health in the collective imagination.

In other words, if you don’t have some kind of physical difference or limitation, people assume you’re capable of achieving anything that others can do, without taking your psychological makeup into account at all.

This is an annoying bias, and it seems to me a bit dangerous, because it makes it all too easy to dismiss mental health issues: Scenarios like "If you're depressed or anxious, it's entirely your fault"

"Chronic loneliness has absolutely nothing to do with social exclusion"

"The system is perfect, and your problems are entirely your own responsibility"

I'm not just talking about the typical "therapy talk" on social media, but about how, ironically, social media has made the denigration of emotional pain widespread, attributing it all to social media.

Think of it as a situation like: "I’ve developed anxiety because of my financial struggles and constant social stress. I can not even afford a cellphone"

Stranger: "That’s because of the internet. Uninstall all your social media apps"

Esto no es para juzgar. Al contrario, yo tampoco voy ni iré.

Mis motivos son simples: ODIO con toda mi alma la cultura sectaria rodeando al gimnasio, en donde vale más sentirte superior al resto de personas y vivir con el miedo casi obsesivo de no entrenar, que sentirte bien contigo mismo.

Además de que yo, personalmente, no quiero vivir por mucho.

Para que se den una idea, yo quise entrar a un gimnasio para tratar mi ansiedad crónica, y salí al poco tiempo sintiéndome peor (emocionalmente).

Hago ejercicio —concretamente, doy largas caminatas, corro y hago senderismo de bajo impacto—, pero no soporto a toda esa gente que parece querer convencerte de que ir al gimnasio es el santo grial o algo así

No dudo de que entrenar tenga muchos beneficios, y no descarto empezar en algún momento, pero me quita totalmente las ganas de intentarlo si te lo planteas con esa actitud tan dramática y alarmista.

Y lo diré otra vez, por si acaso no ha quedado claro. El problema no es —ni nunca ha sido— el hecho de hacer ejercicio en sí, sino que me siento obligado a llenar mi presente de ansiedad, bajo la amenaza de un futuro ultratrágico.

Para que lo entiendas mejor, cambiemos un poco de perspectiva y supongamos que estamos hablando de una cuestión moral en lugar de salud.

¿No resulta incómodo, frustrante e incluso inhumano que tu motivación para no mentir, matar, robar, etc., no sea evitar hacer daño a los demás, sino más bien que alguien te grite que, si haces cualquiera de esas cosas, te pudrirás en el infierno por toda la eternidad?

Pues bien, para mí ocurre lo mismo con la cultura del gimnasio.

Padezco de trastorno de ansiedad generalizada, y no falta el típico imbécil, cuya primera solución a todo es "Ve al gimnasio, bro".

Nunca me había sentido peor respecto a mi cuerpo que cuando intenté investigar temas de entrenamiento y gimnasio. Es como si todo el tiempo la gente hablase de las horribles enfermedades que te darán si no pagas una suscripción al gimnasio.

¿Me estás diciendo que hacer fitness es algo que debería disfrutar y que mejora mi estado animico, pero que al mismo tiempo me sirve como un recordatorio constante de que no voy a ser joven para siempre, y de que, si no hago ejercicio, me espera una vejez miserable?

«Hacer ejercicio ayuda con la ansiedad». Sí, claro... porque acostarme preocupándome por cómo estará mi cuerpo dentro de 40 años y tener lapsos de sueño de cuatro a cinco horas, llenos de sueños inquietos es muy saludable, ¿no?

Actualización interesante: Comenté esto mismo en un sub sobre gimnasio y entrenamientos, para recibir retroalimentación respecto a mis rutinas de movimiento, y resulta que comentaron de manera innecesariamente agresiva usuarios que, de hecho, tienen publicaciones anteriores racistas.

Qué cosas, ¿no?

I exercise—specifically, I go on long walks, run, and do low-impact hiking—but I can’t stand all those people who seem to want to convince you that going to the gym is the holy grail or something like that

I don’t doubt that working out has many benefits, and I’m not ruling out starting at some point, but it totally kills my desire to try it if you approach it with such a dramatic and alarmist attitude.

And I’ll say it again, just in case it wasn’t clear. The problem isn’t—and never has been—the act of exercising itself, but rather that I feel compelled to fill my present with anxiety, under the threat of an ultra-tragic future.

To help you understand better, let’s shift our perspective a bit and imagine we’re talking about a moral issue instead of a health one.

Isn't it uncomfortable, frustrating, and even inhumane that your motivation for not lying, killing, stealing, etc., isn't to avoid hurting others, but rather because someone yells at you that if you do any of those things, you'll rot in hell for all eternity?

Well, for me, the same thing applies to gym culture.

I suffer from generalized anxiety disorder, result of years of emotional neglect, and there’s always that typical jerk whose first solution to everything is “Hit to the gym, bro.”

I’ve never felt worse about my body than when I tried to look into fitness and gym topics. It’s as if people are constantly talking about the terrible diseases you’ll get if you don’t pay for a gym membership.

Are you telling me that working out is something I should enjoy and that improves my mood, but at the same time serves as a constant reminder that I won’t be young forever, and that if I don’t exercise, a miserable old age awaits me?

“Exercise helps with anxiety.” Yeah, right… because going to bed worrying about what my body will look like in 40 years and getting only four or five hours of sleep, filled with restless dreams, is so healthy, isn’t it?

Hago ejercicio —concretamente, doy largas caminatas, corro y hago senderismo de bajo impacto—, pero no soporto a toda esa gente que parece querer convencerte de que ir al gimnasio es el santo grial o algo así

No dudo de que entrenar tenga muchos beneficios, y no descarto empezar en algún momento, pero me quita totalmente las ganas de intentarlo si te lo planteas con esa actitud tan dramática y alarmista.

Y lo diré otra vez, por si acaso no ha quedado claro. El problema no es —ni nunca ha sido— el hecho de hacer ejercicio en sí, sino que me siento obligado a llenar mi presente de ansiedad, bajo la amenaza de un futuro ultratrágico.

Para que lo entiendas mejor, cambiemos un poco de perspectiva y supongamos que estamos hablando de una cuestión moral en lugar de salud.

¿No resulta incómodo, frustrante e incluso inhumano que tu motivación para no mentir, matar, robar, etc., no sea evitar hacer daño a los demás, sino más bien que alguien te grite que, si haces cualquiera de esas cosas, te pudrirás en el infierno por toda la eternidad?

Pues bien, para mí ocurre lo mismo con la cultura del gimnasio.

Padezco de trastorno de ansiedad generalizada, y no falta el típico imbécil, cuya primera solución a todo es "Ve al gimnasio, bro".

Nunca me había sentido peor respecto a mi cuerpo que cuando intenté investigar temas de entrenamiento y gimnasio. Es como si todo el tiempo la gente hablase de las horribles enfermedades que te darán si no pagas una suscripción al gimnasio.

¿Me estás diciendo que hacer fitness es algo que debería disfrutar y que mejora mi estado animico, pero que al mismo tiempo me sirve como un recordatorio constante de que no voy a ser joven para siempre, y de que, si no hago ejercicio, me espera una vejez miserable?

«Hacer ejercicio ayuda con la ansiedad». Sí, claro... porque acostarme preocupándome por cómo estará mi cuerpo dentro de 40 años y tener lapsos de sueño de cuatro a cinco horas, llenos de sueños inquietos es muy saludable, ¿no?

Actualización interesante: Comenté esto mismo en un sub sobre gimnasio y entrenamientos, para recibir retroalimentación respecto a mis rutinas de movimiento, y resulta que comentaron de manera innecesariamente agresiva usuarios que, de hecho, tienen publicaciones anteriores racistas.

Qué cosas, ¿no?

Hago ejercicio —concretamente, doy largas caminatas, corro y hago senderismo de bajo impacto—, pero no soporto a toda esa gente que parece querer convencerte de que ir al gimnasio es el santo grial o algo así

No dudo de que entrenar tenga muchos beneficios, y no descarto empezar en algún momento, pero me quita totalmente las ganas de intentarlo si te lo planteas con esa actitud tan dramática y alarmista.

Y lo diré otra vez, por si acaso no ha quedado claro. El problema no es —ni nunca ha sido— el hecho de hacer ejercicio en sí, sino que me siento obligado a llenar mi presente de ansiedad, bajo la amenaza de un futuro ultratrágico.

Para que lo entiendas mejor, cambiemos un poco de perspectiva y supongamos que estamos hablando de una cuestión moral en lugar de salud.

¿No resulta incómodo, frustrante e incluso inhumano que tu motivación para no mentir, matar, robar, etc., no sea evitar hacer daño a los demás, sino más bien que alguien te grite que, si haces cualquiera de esas cosas, te pudrirás en el infierno por toda la eternidad?

Pues bien, para mí ocurre lo mismo con la cultura del gimnasio.

Padezco de trastorno de ansiedad generalizada, y no falta el típico imbécil, cuya primera solución a todo es "Ve al gimnasio, bro".

Nunca me había sentido peor respecto a mi cuerpo que cuando intenté investigar temas de entrenamiento y gimnasio. Es como si todo el tiempo la gente hablase de las horribles enfermedades que te darán si no pagas una suscripción al gimnasio.

¿Me estás diciendo que hacer fitness es algo que debería disfrutar y que mejora mi estado animico, pero que al mismo tiempo me sirve como un recordatorio constante de que no voy a ser joven para siempre, y de que, si no hago ejercicio, me espera una vejez miserable?

«Hacer ejercicio ayuda con la ansiedad». Sí, claro... porque acostarme preocupándome por cómo estará mi cuerpo dentro de 40 años y tener lapsos de sueño de cuatro a cinco horas, llenos de sueños inquietos es muy saludable, ¿no?

Actualización interesante: Comenté esto mismo en un sub sobre gimnasio y entrenamientos, para recibir retroalimentación respecto a mis rutinas de movimiento, y resulta que comentaron de manera innecesariamente agresiva usuarios que, de hecho, tienen publicaciones anteriores racistas.

Qué cosas, ¿no?

Hago ejercicio —concretamente, doy largas caminatas, corro y hago senderismo de bajo impacto—, pero no soporto a toda esa gente que parece querer convencerte de que ir al gimnasio es el santo grial o algo así

No dudo de que entrenar tenga muchos beneficios, y no descarto empezar en algún momento, pero me quita totalmente las ganas de intentarlo si te lo planteas con esa actitud tan dramática y alarmista.

Y lo diré otra vez, por si acaso no ha quedado claro. El problema no es —ni nunca ha sido— el hecho de hacer ejercicio en sí, sino que me siento obligado a llenar mi presente de ansiedad, bajo la amenaza de un futuro ultratrágico.

Para que lo entiendas mejor, cambiemos un poco de perspectiva y supongamos que estamos hablando de una cuestión moral en lugar de salud.

¿No resulta incómodo, frustrante e incluso inhumano que tu motivación para no mentir, matar, robar, etc., no sea evitar hacer daño a los demás, sino más bien que alguien te grite que, si haces cualquiera de esas cosas, te pudrirás en el infierno por toda la eternidad?

Pues bien, para mí ocurre lo mismo con la cultura del gimnasio.

Padezco de trastorno de ansiedad generalizada, y no falta el típico imbécil, cuya primera solución a todo es "Ve al gimnasio, bro".

¿Me estás diciendo que hacer fitness es algo que debería disfrutar y que mejora mi estado animico, pero que al mismo tiempo me sirve como un recordatorio constante de que no voy a ser joven para siempre, y de que, si no hago ejercicio, me espera una vejez miserable?

«Hacer ejercicio ayuda con la ansiedad». Sí, claro... porque acostarme preocupándome por cómo estará mi cuerpo dentro de 40 años y tener lapsos de sueño de cuatro a cinco horas, llenos de sueños inquietos es muy saludable, ¿no?