Welcome to WYFP for February 2, 2013.
WYFP is our community's Saturday evening gathering to talk about our problems, empathize with one another, and share advice, pootie pictures, favorite adult beverages, and anything else that we think might help. Everyone and all sorts of troubles are welcome. May we find peace and healing here. Won't you please share the joy of WYFP by recommending?
Several months earlier: A seemingly obvious and significant step forward in my life failed to materialize in a rather spectacular way. The humiliation, the repercussions, the enervation and ever present feelings of “What the f--- just happened” blasted my brain. I fell into some sort of depression/malaise/shutdown/brainfreeze. For months. When I groggily, reluctantly emerged from my stupor and peered out on reality I found myself deeply in debt, thirty pounds heavier, and hurtling, full-throttle, in a tailspin to failure/destruction across every single aspect of my life.
The humiliation walks with me daily, reflected in eyes of those I know, the repercussions taunt me, haunt me. I’m expected to deal with it and take responsibility but I’m apathetic. I could lose everything in a matter of months because I stepped away from my life. Shouldn’t I be devoting every effort to turn things around? Is failure a convincing argument? But perhaps I’m not understanding the seriousness of the situation or understanding and honestly not caring. About anything.
And yet. A close relative’s spouse is dying of an illness. Others relatives need financial support. Multiple cases of depression around me. Friends about to spontaneously combust from workload, family, and financial-related stressors. I’m the one to talk to, who has thoughtful counsel and warm words to share. I listen, encourage, cajole, and cheer. All the while I’m babbling Pollyannaisms I hold this imaginary gun to my temple (Concealed Carry, indeed!). What a sublime joke that the biggest loser of all should be consulted for advice. About anything.
Well, what does positive mean these days anyway. All I know is there’s no escape. All any of us can do is try to shake off the debris of the recession, the foul political and employment environment, the emotional, physical, financial trauma of living every day under near-unbearable stress. And then try to trudge on. Who knows, tomorrow might not be the f’ing joke that today has been. What’s my fucking problem? Me. What is yours?