Mary: *smacks head* So close…we were so close. See you next month everyone!
A Not So Happy New Year
Dear Vishous,
This letter is hard to write for two reasons. The first is because what’s prompting it is something that seems to separate me from everybody else. I am surrounded by people at work and in my personal life who are excited by the new year. They have resolutions and plans, goals and motivations, and they seem to talk about them all the time. It’s pretty standard stuff. Lose weight, save money, drink less, exercise more, be better, do better. I listen to them in the break room. I go out with them on Friday or Saturday night. They text and call me.
Everyone’s into the new year but me. I’m not excited. I’m not looking forward to anything. I put on twenty pounds in the last year. I’m not in a relationship, and there are no prospects. I’m deeper in debt. I don’t like my job because I’m bored. My car is old, my apartment is crappy, and every day my alarm goes off, I have to drag myself out of bed.
Before you hit me with the you-have-your-health, you-should-be-grateful, others-have-it-worse-than-you, I know all of that is true, and it makes me feel even worse. I’m thirty-one years old, I am in good health, and I realize there are no excuses for me feeling so uninspired by life. I hate the way I feel, but I can’t seem to get myself out of this headspace. And meanwhile, all my coworkers and friends go about their super fun lives, enjoying everything. The juxtaposition between all of them and where I’m at just makes me feel worse.
The other reason this is hard to write is because I know you kick people in the ass, and I know you’re not going to show me any compassion or concern. And I’m not sure I deserve any, anyway. I’m just reaching out because I don’t know what else to do. Please, help me get out of my own way.
Sincerely,
Lame and Ungrateful
Mary:*glances at V as he lights a hand-rolled* Well, since my partner in this is busy with his Bic, I’ll start. I’m not going to call you by your signature because I will not refer to you as lame for a variety of reasons, including the fact that that term can be viewed as problematic. And yes, you’ve related some things that could be considered “ungrateful,” but I feel like there are issues going on for you.
Vishous:*exhales*
Mary:*waits for V to interject* Um, anyway. I am not in a position to diagnose you, but from the tone of your letter and the things you’ve described, it sounds as though you are depressed. There are also some self-esteem problems going on. The first thing I’d like to encourage you to do is find a professional to talk to. I think unpacking some of your thoughts and emotions will be helpful.
Vishous:*taps hand-rolled on lip of ashtray*
Mary:*gives V another chance to comment* Okaaaaay. The next thing I might suggest is setting some short-term goals. Maybe it’s changing your diet not in a massive, overhaul kind ofway that is bound to fail, but in a baby-step fashion. You could also join a low-cost gym close to your apartment and set a target of two times a week. You state that you don’t enjoy your job. Perhaps looking into a promotion where you work, or putting some feelers out for—
V:*inspects his nail beds*
Mary:*mutters to herself as she focuses on V* Right. Let’s cut the crap here, Vishous. This is supposed to be a back-and-forth between you and me. Why are you just sitting there twiddling your thumbs?
V:I don’t want to upset the snowflake.
Mary:Do not refer to her as a snowflake. That’s disrespectful and demeaning.
V:Oh, sorry. The entitled whiner. How’s that?
Mary:*puts head in hands* You can’t say that. You just can’t.
V:Look, this woman writes in, all whaa-whaaaaaa, I’m so bored and sunk by my ennui, everyone’s life is perfect and mine is so terrible, even though I’m employed, have a roof over my head, and have enough disposable income to go out and party with my friends. Spare me.
Mary:Depression is an insidious disease, V. It’s a real thing. And the just-toughen-up routine is not the way to treat it.
V:So we’re supposed to hold her hand and blot her tears while she blabbers on about how she’s being held hostage by her mood? Please.
Mary:You don’t know what the underlying issues are. Maybe there are things in her past—
V:At thirty-one years old, she has to take responsibility for her own life. You can’t whine about your parents forever. At some point, you need to grow up and own your space. Mommy and Daddy and all the mean things they did to you at your tenth birthday party can’t be the excuse for everything you don’t like about your life.
Mary:How’s your mom, V?
V:*pause* I’m good with where I’m at with her. Thanks for asking.
Mary:*dryly* I can tell. And you don’t know about her past. Maybe there is trauma. Maybe there is—
V:Given how quick she is to list everything that’s wrong for her, I’m very confident that that shit would have been right up front. And she knows what I’m going to tell her. She put it in her damn letter. She’s going to get no compassion at all. You want that shit from me? Take responsibility for your life. Change your job if you don’t like your current one. You put on twenty pounds in the last year? Go back to your old diet and exercise and take them off. Stop it with the everyone’s-life-is-great-but-mine shit. If you honestly believe your coworkers and friends are living in a Utopia, you’re fucked up. They all have their own shit. Trust me. They’re just not talking about it incessantly—or maybe they have mentioned it—but you’re so wrapped up in your own self-inflicted butt hurt, you can’t recognize their struggles.
Mary:*under her breath* And to think I wanted him to start talking. *more loudly* I want our letter writer to know that most people’s lives go in cycles. There are times when we feel morestable and purposeful and others when we do not. When we hit one of those rough patches—which is totally normal—we need to believe that we will survive it. The key is to develop a toolbox of coping skills. These include support from professionals, family, religious leaders (if applicable) and friends. They may include medication and alterations in behavior and journaling. Change is hard, but it is always possible, whether we believe it or not. Baby steps will win the race.
