Shakabuku Files

Sitting in a coffee shop, there are about a dozen “seniors” kibbutzing about this and that. I come in on a conversation about Obama and entitlement programs. Socialized medicine is evil, people are just gimme gimme gimme, today’s taxes don’t cover the cost so the people taking money from the government now are just putting the financial burder on other people in the future. With absolutely no sense of irony, the conversation then shifts to them bitching about their Social Security and Medicare, their last increase was only X and should have been more, it doesn’t cover this and that, they had to pay for all this stuff out of pocket because the stingy government doesn’t want to pony up and give them their due.

The topic drifts to the economy, and how their property taxes have gone up, and how so-and-so’s son got laid off and is having trouble finding work, and it’s sooo terrible, it’s sooo awful. Then a homeless guy walks by outside, and one guy cracks that that’s the reason you always get a shopping cart with a stuck, wobbly wheel at the grocery store, the bums (his word) steal all the good ones. Har har har, everybody laughs. I want to yell hey, jackass, that’s so-and-so’s son out there! But I don’t. Because some people will never get it, no matter how much two-fisted enlightenment you bestow upon them.

 

 

Dealing with Depression

Posted by Viriatha

Twitter:
greywulf @ViriCordova You are @BerinKinsman’s doppelganger. Hail the Dire Queen!
ViriCordova @greywulf omg lol I dunno about doppleganger but he’s been a great friend of mine

I got to know Berin when I was dealing with depression. We were both on Twitter but hadn’t really interacted much and I was sinking fast that day. I tweeted something about it and he was the only person who didn’t toss me a platitude.

Twitter Friends: I love you, this is NOT criticism of you!

But Berin understood. So few people do. I don’t know how many of us get depressed every year. If I knew, it’d probably be depressing so I think I’ll avoid that. He didn’t tell me it would all be ok. He didn’t say cheer up. He didn’t tell me to smile. He knew none of that made any real difference. He’d been there.

I think that’s how I always know the people who’ve suffered real depression, the life-crippling, omg I want suicide as a relief option group. Instead of encouraging words they offer empathy.

See, the encouraging words? They just make you feel worse when you fail to fulfill them. I’d love to smile. If I could I wouldn’t be depressed. If it was going to be all right, then why is the pain not going away? Sure it’ll get better, but I need help NOW.

I’m not saying don’t say these things. Knowing someone cares DOES help and you do that by saying something, even something wrong. Just don’t get surprised or feel alienated if the depressed friend doesn’t respond the way you expect them to.

And gods save me from boyfriends who tell me not to cry.

Armchairs

Sitting in a coffee shop, doodling in a notebook, listening to the old men at the next table talking about sports and politics. The conversation ambles organically between the two topics, and they not only discuss them with the same tone and vocabulary but as if they’re the same thing. “He’s a bum! They’ve got to get rid of him! He’s gonna bring the whole thing down! Remember when they had that other guy? He did a good job. They need another guy like him, but they don’t make ‘em like him again. We’ll never see another guy like that again. That’s not what they want these days.” They’re equally adapt at espousing how the people in charge should be doing things, their disappointment with the status quo. It doesn’t matter that none of them are likely qualified to either run a sports franchise or hold elected office. They have opinions! And their opinions are Truth! The One Truly True Truth! If only the world would see things their way, both sports and government could be saved.

I’m like a liver spot away from joining their club.