Fandango's One Word Challenge: Despondent Decision that was bad. Extended payment plans. Student financial assistance. Parental shelter needed. Oh my God look at the interest. Number of payments. Defaulted. Emergency room. Never going to own a house or car. Tranquilizers.
This post is in response to Fandango's Provocative Question #82: Do you judge yourself by the same standards that you judge others? If not, are you harsher or more lenient on yourself? Judging is my wheelhouse. Actually, change that to slaughterhouse. Not only do I judge myself more harshly than other people, I beat myself … Continue reading How do I judge me? Let me count the ways. #FPQ
Based on a true story about a lowly department store administrative assistant…. “EEEEP! EEEEP! EEEEEEP!” Oh no! There must be a fire! My eardrums! I jumped up from my desk. “EEEEP! EEEEP! EEEEEEP!” I have no time to walk around my desk! The shortest way is always a straight line. I climbed up “EEEEP! EEEEP! … Continue reading No exit: well there is an exit, but it’s sealed shut. A retail story.
Picture yourself on a nice, sunny day, under a big, shady tree, digging a hole to plant some flowers. You take your little shovel and dig, and you soon find some roots in your way. Over-enthusiastic growth, yes; difficult to remove, yes. But removable with effort. You dig them out, you plant your flowers, and … Continue reading Some twisted roots unearthed among the leaves of an old diary.
....Can't live with them.
Based on a true story about a lowly administrative assistant in the office of a large department store... I was sitting at my desk, spreading as many papers and opening as many binders on my desk as I could fit, when a sales associate came in. “We’re out of receipt rolls.” That didn’t sound good. … Continue reading Watch the budget: a little retail story
My protagonist’s boyfriend has been secretly begging me to allow him to cheat on her. I didn't want things to be this way but unless she shapes up, there may not be a happy ending. I may have to do something we both might not like. What was meant to be a portrait of depression … Continue reading Is it you, or is it me? Struggling with a fictional character.
People seem to be more open lately about invisible pain, sickness, disability, or mental illness. That’s a good thing. It means you don’t have to try to justify your existence as much. Maybe you could even share your problem with someone else (like your ever-so-compassionate boss!) and get a response that doesn't include a dirty … Continue reading The pain in my ass is what makes me a pain in the ass.
That is all.
Who's the opposite of the inner critic? The inner egomaniac. Locked in an eternal tug-of-war with you in the middle, the critic tries to tear you apart, while the egomaniac tries to shamelessly patch itself up. I can barely look in the mirror when I think of all the times in my life when I … Continue reading Damage control, saving face, and the little egomaniac.
Guilt. Ineptitude. Stupidity. Immorality. Shame. Imposture. These aren’t really all that different when you think about it, right? Just the variety of tactics that the one and the same inner critic uses to help us destroy ourselves. Scratch that: “critic” is too nice of a word. “Monster” or “demon” is more like it. Who knows … Continue reading As P!nk aptly put it… Don’t let me get me
Loyalty + Low Self Esteem = Low Wage Job. The equation that explains my whole life.
To the depressed out there, do you have a trigger flush that sends you swirling down the toilet along with all your shitty thoughts? And when you're swirling around, do you mistake the shit for yourself? I don't know about you, but I really don't want to do that anymore. And if you don't want … Continue reading How to unwaste wasted time?
T.S. Eliot wrote that “April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing / Memory and desire, stirring / Dull roots with spring rain.” I would submit that spring is the cruelest season. But it doesn't need to be. Farmers plow their fields each spring, while we the depressed plow … Continue reading Plowing through depression while planting gratitude.
I received the love of my life in fifth grade: a transistor radio. It was your standard little pocket Sony. I've worn out many radios since then. Maybe “worn out” isn’t the right phrase. Maybe “snapped off the antenna and can’t tune anything in now” is better. I don't know how many people still listen … Continue reading Is there anybody out there? transistor radios and invisible neighborhoods.