Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The Trouble With Normal

Seems to me someone co-opted this title awhile back to make another really bad sit-com but I associate it with Bruce Cockburn's song, the lyrics of which resonate powerfully with me today: "The trouble with normal is, it always gets worse".  Spring came and went, or rather, we returned to seasonably cool temperatures.  I haven't run in a week - too cold - and I haven't been sleeping.  I thought my sleep meds were to blame for my daytime lethargy so I cut back on them, though I had never exceeded the recommended dose.  The result was sleeplessness.  In combination with the day-to-day stress of having no money, gaining weight and not being able to run I lost my marbles this weekend, if only temporarily. 

I hate people.  I hate people who have life so good they think it's bad.  I hate having to be the sympathetic ear to friends who can suck all the air out of a room with their sorrow and the need for pity.  I hate people who belittle the things I can do, or what I have.  I sell clothes.  No, I'm not reshaping national policy or rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous but I work for a home-grown company that sells quality goods to a marginalised sector of society - women over 40.  I make them feel good.  I hate people who think that's an insignificant thing to do.  As anyone can probably guess I've had a bad weekend.  I've been a good and supportive friend to those who are probably working a whole circuit of people like me to the same end - to keep the pity party going.  All they have to do is turn on the tears and the world is theirs.  There's no real concern for how to pay the next bill or where to live but somehow being a 50+ woman on their own is a trauma unimaginable.  Maybe I should try it and see.  Something tells me I have better survival skills and would get through it even if I'm finding my anger and depression hard enough to deal with now.

So what to do with the anger and depression?  I walk my dog.  I talk to people in the dog park and the customers at work.  I keep smiling.  I may get some anti-depressants from my doctor when I see her on Thursday.  I will stop feeling like there's something bitter and twisted in me.  Being angry and resentful is a normal range of emotions but it doesn't do to dwell there too long.  The best thing about anti-depressants is that once they kick in I won't give a shit about anything any more.  And I will run again.  Hopefully this week.

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