I feel a little better today. Yesterday I did not feel good at all. Yesterday was like a lot of other days that I wait out. A day when I am empty and tired, when I have nothing to look forward to but death.
Imagine, if you will, that you are a woman in her early 50’s. Never married, but with a daughter from one of a few inadequate relationships with men who couldn’t commit, or couldn’t pull their own weight, or were just plain a horror show. That daughter is the one good thing in this woman’s life. The one relationship that is healthy, where judgment is not the determining factor in the relationship.
That woman is me, that daughter is mine. She’s the reason why I’m still here. How could I leave her with the message that she can bail, because life sucks so badly? She is the one person I don’t want to bail. So I try not to be miserable. I’m a little less miserable today, because we are supposed to get together today. I might even be sort of happy for a while today. It’s not like happiness is a “never” kind of thing, it’s that it is such an infrequent kind of thing. Happiness is doled out in crumbs that get smaller and smaller as time goes on.
My life is so confining. Maybe it is my fears that confine me. Fears of being an old. broken-down woman living under a bridge and pushing a shopping cart around. Because financially, that is most certainly the bag I’m in. I have no money. Don’t let people tell you that money won’t make you happy. For a lot of us, that’s a lie. I could fix most of my problems, and some of my daughter’s, if I had money. But instead of having money, I live with other people, my parents. They are old and miserable, too. And judgmental. Forever reminding me of what a burden I am, what a huge failure I’ve become.
My daughter was desperate enough for money, that she worked in a club. You know the kind, the kind of place they call a “gentleman’s club” with “dancers”, who are a bunch of young (and not-so-young) women who are desperate enough for money that they take their clothes off to try to get tips from a bunch of screwed-up guys. Don’t waste your breath telling me that those places are fine, that the industry is healthy and normal. It is not. It is bullshit sold to people who want to be self-indulgent, at their own expense, and at everyone else’s, too. I can’t remember how many of the women that worked at that club killed themselves. Too many. And how many are drug addicts, or alcoholics. And how many of the customers are clearly unable to have normal relationships. The only good thing about those places is MONEY. People will lie and say anything and do anything for MONEY. Same with defending their own slimy behavior and weak egos. Lies, lies, and more lies, to everybody including themselves.
So, that’s my rant about my daughter’s former workplace. The place that just created more issues in her life, and mine by proxy. It’s tough to watch people in lives that are nothing but pain and disappointment, and then see them kill themselves because they don’t know what to do to ever have a life they want.
So, if I had money, we could’ve skipped that shit.
On the subject of suicide, we’ve known a lot of people who did that. Not just people at daughter’s work. My aunt killed herself on Thanksgiving in 2015. And there was a male friend of mine who hanged himself. And another who tried to beat a train. A female friend who knew she’d probably o.d. someday from drug abuse, whose wish came true. An in-law’s in-law, who hanged himself in a garden shed. My daughter lost two friends in their early 20’s to separate car accidents, and another kid just killed himself. I’m telling you, if you’ve read this far, that LIFE IS FUCKING MISERABLE.
Yeah, I’m ruminating. Would you believe that I’ve worked mostly in the mental health field for the last 21 years? I have! I wanted to do something useful. I wanted to actually help other people to do something worthwhile, other than making money for a faceless corporation. So, I did that, and guess what? I HAVE NO MONEY FOR ME OR MINE. I gave away my time and my life to other people for no good reason. And now I’m old and single and broke. Yay, me. 🙁
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2 comments
This life, why is it filled with such misery, such pain, why does it treat some people so well and others it throws to the side. I’ve told my parents something that I’ve told everyone, money really is the only thing that matters. Sure I probably wouldn’t be a “happy” person with it but I could definitely get the things I want with money, a nice house, a partner, a nice car, a good life. No longer would I worry about getting a mediocre job or worry about how I’m going to move out or pay bills. Money could solve pretty much all of my issues. And yeah, I know a few people who off’d themselves. Just recently Chris Cornell killed himself, I think the more intelligent you are, the more you realize how truly awful life is, some of the stupidest people I know are some of the happiest as well.
@WhySkyEnd:
True, money won’t make you happy if you don’t have the capacity to experience happiness any more. But it will if your lack of it makes you homeless, or hungry, or unable to get/stay well. Or if the lack of it prevents you from having the agency to do the things that make life satisfying.
It sounds like you totally “get” how the freedom from worrying about survival can be useful. The “things” part of living, like a house and a car. And you’re right in that if you have enough cash, you can find a partner. The problem with that part is what kind of partner you end up with. It is incredibly common to find people who are just looking for financial support. And that is not going to be a great partnership. You don’t want someone as your primary relationship who’s only there because you take care of them. Those people are usually lazy, hella underconfident, or worst of all, users who are just looking for a free ride until they find something more profitable.
Are there real people out there who will like you for you? Probably, but you need to get your act together to find them. Because smart people who have a mind for self-preservation stay away from poverty and bad juju. So, having adequate money will help, but you have to feel good enough about yourself that you aren’t an outspoken negative downer. Most people will run from that.
I am probably rambling at you. But I also agree that a certain amount of stupidity probably helps a little. Or maybe being totally shallow? If you don’t care much about anything like justice or fairness or the happiness of other people, maybe it’s a free ride? If a person’s a shallow douchebag, then he/she needn’t feel bad about drowning Syrian refugees or starving people in South Sudan or whether that poor wino sleeping on the grate might freeze in the winter.