someone said something to me that was so profoundly idiotic, stupid and insensitive, that it clarified for me this person’s depth was none existent. she is a phony, a totally ridiculous idiot. a bottomless pit of misery.
now I can be amusing, however this is not an amusing subject. hopefully this blog may trigger some thoughts of similar incidents in your life, for that is my purpose.
ok – this is my real life here. going through a separation that has a 100% chance ending in divorce, really ugly, messy, tricky, mysterious divorce shit. the 1% of anything positive coming from this second separation is floating amuck in cyberspace – whatever. i have not shared this with many people. only a few close friends and some family members. that is really a lie. barely qualify for that statement.
lately i have done the unthinkable. do not do this. posting what i think are subtle remarks with emojions on facebook. so not cool. usually happens late at night when i get really pissed off. i repeat. do not do that. chances are the person it is directed towards does not read it – and the people who do have their own shit don’t care. so you look like an idiot. which i am not. merely pissed off that i was so stupid.
moving along –
now have you ever had someone tell you that people were mean because they were jealous of you? bullshit. very often in some ways, some people are. but people are mean because people are mean. period. other people allow them to be mean. it’s really survival of the fittest. and people love it when you are – hmmmmm – not happy. so leave it to your mothers to tell you that “people are jealous” – for the most part that is just not how it all comes down. follow me here.
back to the story. excluding chemical imbalances, mental trauma due to injury, severe shit like losing a child (the worst possible thing that can happen to a person) well – where do we draw the line between when is it “ok” to be depressed or are you just having a personal pity party? this is the story –
i called (in good faith, hey – I never get a call) my only sister, to wish her a happy birthday. she answered with this sad, weepy voice that expounded on how she was “FINE” and although she was one of “the poor working schleps” in this world, she had the weekend free to treat herself to a great birthday. ok. i’m biting. mani, pedi, massage (both days) hair, blah blah. And dinner with her cousin and daughter. she pays. oh – and she sent herself flowers (ok – the last time someone did that was in “when harry met sally”) and in addition bought herself fine chocolate (does she even eat chocolate?) and oh – she was “going to be just fine ….” (weep weep sniff sniff oh my)
she struggles with a “and how are you?” now she damn well freaking knows that my outrageously ridiculous marriage is over. (jewish grapevine) i just don’t have the energy to call everyone and whine. i have a therapist and two great friends for that. my mother – she will somehow (if not now, later) twist this around and use it against me in the future. so no, i have avoided speaking to her lately. i mean i have no idea what to say about a psycho that i married. and my poor judgement. bad me. i just wanted the freaking dream. you know. best friend. lover. all of that.
without getting into morbid (not really, actually funny in retrospect) details, no, actually it is pretty fucking funny – but I can talk about that later; I answer the looming question that i know she has absolutely no interest in hearing the answer to. but I bite again. “you do know that I have a divorce looming —” i tell her. she hesitates. refers NOT to my admission. however she does have profound advice. i am waiting with bated breath. tell me bitch. i know she is thinking. not deeply. impossible. although she would deny that.
“i have a way to make you really appreciate your life wendy” – (oh no, here comes another deep lecture from someone with absolutely no male relationships in over two decades) “blah blah died —-stage 4 cancer” – (i pause to think who this person is …. ok, I remember her from high school. 45 years ago.) WTF does this have to do with my divorce?
“i don’t see the relevance here ” i tell her. pause. like i’m a criminal for not knowing who this person is, then recalling who it is, and then not really caring because people die every day, and personally, last few years i’ve lost some very dear people, including my father. i have no time to mourn the world. kill me. softly. just kill me because i cannot mourn the entire world. of course, when i think about it, i certainly feel that one moment of thought for this person that i went to school with 45 years ago and her family might be in order. karma. end of story. and ?
suddenly i turned into the most heartless, selfish, narcissistic bitch she thinks that i am. honestly. “i knew that you wouldn’t get it wendy” she is stern. yes. you are correct. i do not get it.
“i am getting divorced, it sucks. i have many feelings about this – ranging from deception anger confusion> hatred, on many levels. i am going through emotional turmoil. to hate myself at this moment is not a difficult task. and i didn’t want to talk about this on your birthday. because its your birthday. but since you brought it up, yes – i don’t really care.”
“i mean when i had cancer sister – you freaking didn’t visit me. you rarely called. and when i did speak to you … your infamous words of advice were “lance armstrong has cancer which is much worse than the cancer that you have, get a grip.” fuck her. very much. still. fuck her very much. fuck.
that comment still pisses me off 13 years later. so i continue. “i lost 3 dear friends (and remember our father???) last year. every day i think of them – i don’t have time to get depressed over someone else’s friend and family who i do not know.”
end of conversation.
after i hung up, i really did dig deep. still could not understand how anyone has time to take on all of the world’s misery, hurt, despair, pain – you name it. who the hell has the time to do anything but what we try desperately to do – and often not succeed for ourselves, and the people who are important to us?
i came up with some thoughts on her comment, imagining that it would make me feel better; honestly. not. she didn’t think. she does not care. there is not a true caring bone in her body except for a few isolated people. and that’s ok with moi. yup. but it did get me thinking about where we draw the line on depression? what is acceptable to us? what is acceptable to the people who know us?
death? ok – that’s legitimate. for a while. (unless it’s a child, and in that case i have no idea how i would exist either) but other than death – there has to be a grey line between that and that total “got to have it or i am a loser — amazing happiness.”
now that is taking this idea to the max. so like me. death > greylinestarts > greylineends = total happiness. hmmmm.
there is no such thing as total happiness except for nano moments. nano days. nano weeks. perhaps nano months and years – if we are lucky. but total happiness is an impossibility. and i do not need a Ph.D from blah blah to tell you it’s ok to not be totally happy. and all of the time? totally impossible. absolutely. without a doubt. it’s all ok.
yeah, i’ll buy into the “it starts with yourself” because i know (deep down) that when i am not happy it’s because i feel insecure. insecure about many things. income. career. no career. husband. no husband. friends. no friends. family. looming – whatever is out there to get me. my weight. my life. my everything. all of the time. not really. i am making a point here.
hey, i’m the gal that went to india for a month last year to enlighten myself. and no, it was not because of that movie. (why does everyone ask me that?) i went because my oldest son somehow “gets me” and just signed me up for this program at a “totally beyond the imagination of anyone place” on the arabian sea. and there i stayed for a month. an entire month. basically cut off from everyone and everything that i knew. no booze. no tv. no communication except if wi-fi happened to pass through the humid air some random evening. cell phones. nah. i loved being alone but not alone. i learned alone. i learned a lot. i connected. no shit. promise.
so now you think i’m some lucky person who can just take off to india for a month so perhaps i’ve temporarily lost credibility with you. i mean how can most people relate to me? does telling you that i stayed in a non-air conditioned hut on the arabian sea make it better? that the food sucked? that every day i didn’t face reality (although i did there) was another day lost in my own life? that i feel sorry for people who cannot afford to even dream of taking a month off to travel half way around the world to “find themselves”? no guilt. that is why you can believe me. i get the entire photograph here. i’ve seen both sides now. and i’m not even judy collins.
don’t get lost in your life. it’s your life and you are responsible for it. and the stupid decisions that we all make? wealthy people make the same mistakes. and yes, they don’t have to worry about money in the same respect. i must admit, when that has been the case it’s a very freeing feeling. but i have not decided if having that disappear makes it worth it in the end? in other words – would you rather have done your “dream or a part of it” and then miss it ….. or never have had dreams so you have nothing to miss? that does not exclude you from depression. depression affects most everyone at one time or another in their life. and being able to discuss this with the unknown population of the world that are “normal” people like me (some may disagree) helps you and hopefully puts perspective into your thoughts, and how you deal with your depression.
i still have meltdowns. times when i cannot function, get out of my bed – although i am not sleeping. not talking to trusted friends, few as they are. certain things help. writing. cooking. exercising. getting a new puppy. putting something off so that i can spend time watching a stupid movie. reading a book. blogging. putting things off is not a crime. not a cause to add to your sadness. it’s natural. go with it.
there is nothing wrong with escape. i’ve been escaping for too long. yes, i will tell you that i tried – but the truth is, i probably have not. and i have no idea of what i was supposed to try to do. the biggest question hanging in that bubble that comes out of my big mouth is ” what haven’t you tried?” see – it’s not trying that burnt me out – but trying again. and again. i miss my lack of fear. i truly think that gambling with your life is the scariest thing around. and if you lose – it’s devastating. but if you win the reward is miraculous.
so what am i saying to you? let’s try it together. get it out there. write to me. tell me your story, why are you depressed? is it worthy of putting your life on hold? perhaps for a bit – but where do we draw the line? where does the grey line start and the yellow brick road start?