Posted on 10/03/2011 4:20:35 PM PDT by Revolting cat!
Ultimately, it is all my fault, my failure, my fall. I failed to persuade, failed to seduce, failed to sell. (I hate the concept of 'selling oneself', so prevalent in our culture, but it is what it is.) And it's my core that is responsible. My unchangeable core. It was my core that was rejected, despised, spat upon, accused, laid off from my job, told "I cannot love you". No Prozac, no therapy can change my core, they can only dull my senses, hypnotize me into accepting despair.
I know what I'm talking about, the world has sent me a clear message over the past couple of years, a series of messages, really, through the words and actions of all these respectable, humble, good Christians, Jews and Hindues who had the misfortune to have to deal with me and my core.
It (the core) may be worse than Paul McCartney's core, but his has been immunized by fame and fortune, and even if he is as mean and cruel as his previous wife alleged, he can have the love of any woman on the planet, just as the notorious murderers in prison have the love of many women out there and even end up marrying one of them. Fame, fortune, notoriety.
I bet the woman who broke a struggling musician's heart and robbed him blind inspiring the song Moneygrabber, regrets her past haste now that Michael Fitzpatrick is rich and famous with his band Fitz and the Tantrums. With a little patience, she could have grabbed so much more!
Notoriety, fame and fortune, not necessarily in that order, to override your flawed core, to make them overlook it, forget it, tolerate it, why, to even worship it. I wish my father had taught me just that and nothing else, and that I had later taught my children.
You're bad, alas insufficiently so to earn notoriety, and no Jesus can help you now.
Um....... Do you have a license to operate that stream of conscience in public???
Dude, are you alone? Do you have someone you can call? Because you sound like you’re tipping over the edge of despair.
Alone? Yes.
“Alone? Yes.”
In that, you’re not alone.
The past four years have been hell on earth for a lot of people.
~Layoffs, closures, bankruptcy, foreclosures and loss of so much that we value from friends to family.
Feel free to vent! You aren’t alone. The loss of a job can be a massive body-blow to one’s esteem not to mention the loss of an entire way of life.
Can I help you?
*if I can’t reply tonight just know that we are having a lot of problems getting online and navigating today
There are a lot of us here who know what it’s like to be hard-hit—not just by job loss but by the deaths of loved ones, betrayals, financial disasters, a bad diagnosis, and other sorrows and losses. PM me if you want to talk. I’m betting some of the other Freepers here would be open to talking to you, too. There might even be some Freepers who live near you who could meet you in real life.
Tomorrow is a brand new day. Whatever misfortune or depression you are dealing with can be overcome. It is hard to change your outlook on life (especially if you have had a lot of bad luck), but if you set small goals for yourself each day and achieve them you may find success breeds further success - which can really make you feel better and more confident that you have the power to create a better future for yourself.
Also, you sound very down. Perhaps call on some family or friends and talk awhile.
I hope you feel better.
you mention Prozac. I have known folks who were helped
by medication and no its not a reality change or some
form of brain desensitivation. Depression does have chemical
origins, but ne has to seek professional help and to do that one has to be ready to put aside pride and be open to what an MD therapist might suggest. This is a solvable problem. It would be a shame to exist in misery when help
is available..
I don’t know what is more disturbing, this post of yours, or the fact that I understand it. Sometimes I think my immunity has just about worn out.
Let me relate a story, from a short story by Mark Helprin included in his The Pacific and Other Stories collection, that had really touched me. The title is Il Colore Ritrovato (The Color Regained). In it, a young Italian accountant passing a Milan laundry hears one of the workers there sing opera arias like an angel. He approaches her and persuades her let him become her manager. Her violently jealous boyfriend is at the time (1962) serving in the Italian army, stationed at the embassy in New Zealand. She agrees to the narrator's proposal and he makes her a big star. The boyfriend returns and commits suicide. She becomes a great international star, he her manager with his own family, she a wealthy but a very lonely, unhappy, woman. Forty years later he realizes he had destroyed her life.
While in Venice on his star's business, he hears another young singer on the street. She is accompanied on guitar by her boyfriend. They are Estonian. The narrator proposes to manage her, but he will also take on the boyfriend. Here's the story's last beautiful sentence that I once falsely, as it turned out, believed could be true for me as well:
And as I passed over the waters and heard this song that she sang on side street, it said to me that no matter where you lead, or you are led, no matter how the waves may break upon you, and what sins you may unknowingly commit, it is true that by the grace of God, you can sometimes make amends.
Prayers for you.
Thank you, and I apologize to all for my vanity.
And she still lives in the same small town.
Even given her perfidy, I'll never be over it.
One plodding step at a time,
One colorless plodding day after another,
One decade too many for realistic optimism.
Yet we go on, for reasons unknown, in hopes of still making some kind of difference, somehow . . .
I don’t know this poem, it is good.
Hope, hopeless hope, unrealistic dream,
keep me going, that is all,
even as the famous bridge across the water
from the park where I walk my dog
beckons me to its railing.
(Above is not an attempt at poetry, of which I am incapable.)
Read Napoleon Hill. Lots of his stuff is now out of copyright, hence free.
Choose a definite purpose and then choose the mental attitude needed to achieve it.
I like your rant. If one must rant, let it be done well. Now it's my turn: I once thought I could save a troubled man. I couldn't. He's dead. I once thought I could help a troubled relative. I helped a little but almost got dragged under myself. I could go on but the pattern is this: we have the power to influence, but that is all. Our best bet is to take good care of ourselves so no one else has to. I have given up trying to pull anyone back from a precipice. What I can do is open doors for people whose hands are full.
And now for something different, and mildly amusing, if in one part insulting (the getting off the pot part.) A well meaning friend for whom English is a foreign language sent me the following:
get you shit together
get up on your feet and walk
move your ass
drop the past, pick up the line (me)
Got invented rain but he gave us the umbrella also (his Brasilian woman friend)
“If there is a problem, there is also a solution. If there is no solution to it, there is no problem.”
(Brasilian friend’s grandmother)
get off the pot and walk (a German woman friend)
never say never
face it!
just pick your chance again
use the reset button (Obama)
have a go / go for it
play it again, Sam
avanti popolo!
You’re one of millions of us. Never think it’s only you. Go to the nursing homes and ask to visit with someone who never has visitors. Listen to their old stories, laugh when appropriate, hold a hand when it’s called for. You’ll know that you’re worthy. I pray for you and your “core.”
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