Yes yes, a blatant cry for attention.

The BBQ Pit
1

Yes. I’m a little crazy. Yes, I’m being stupid. Yes I’m sitting at work, crying like a pussy bitch. Writing this will accomplish nothing, but maybe some kind words and a feeling of catharsis. You don’t have to wade through it if you don’t care to hear anymore about my stupid life.

I’m having a bad week on every possible level. The only thing good about my life this week is my husband, thank Christ, who is 40x the person of anyone else I know, and makes everyone else in the world look like a facist, Kubrickian, sadistic piece of shit. I would most certainly die without him and his sweet little smile and hugs.

What happened this week that calls for such misery? Who the fuck knows? Isn’t that the distinct glory of senseless suffering and unfounded depression?

I completely lost my appetite for no reason. Some of my friends have decided not to be my friend anymore, and they’ve done that without any explanation despite my pleas for said explanation. My job is going nowhere, my career aspirations are going nowhere. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus on reading a book by my favorite fucking author. I stopped writing in my journal and I stopped working out. I have no purpose and I’m miserable. MISERABLE. Not an hour goes by when I don’t want to burst into tears.

A month or so ago I gave up drinking for a month. I started a journal, I started working out every day, taking care of myself…and you know what I wondered today? WHY? Who the fuck cares what I look like or sound like or act like? Nobody. It makes no fucking difference. I’m never going to be on the cover of a magazine. I’m never going to have sex with the thousands of celebrities I fantasize about. I’m never going to have to go on a book tour. I’m never going to be on stage again. I’m never going to have my name before the title like I always dreamed. I’m never going to the academy awards, or be the Grand Marshall in the Blue Island, Illinois Fourth of July Parade. I’m never going to have to fend off sexy single men in a bar.

Let’s face it together: I’m an old, pasty, frumpy, boring, inherently nerdy, secretly conservative, untalented washed up old bat, with a squeaky voice, a crooked spine and no chin who tried for a little while to have some sort of claim to fame.

I tried to be cool, I tried to be hip. I tried to do things that nobody else does. And where did it get me? fucking nowhere. I might as well sit at home and drink a twelve pack of beer every night because at least I’ll feel a little tingly. At least maybe I won’t be on the verge of tears every time someone says hi to me. At least I won’t let what other people think of me affect me so strongly.

And really, do you think I want to care what people think of me? You think I want to care about the stupid minutae that drives me mad? That’s part of what drives me mad, don’t you see? I should not care what people I don’t even know do with themselves. I should not care about television, or music, or movies, or acting or writing or baseball games or anything because it DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER. When someone says something mean or callus or cruel to me I should just say, “You’re welcome to go fuck yourself,” instead of weeping.

Because in the end, Nothing fucking matters except that I get to work at 8:30, that I pay my car payment by the 24th of the month and that I keep on toiling in the salt mines for absolutely no reason.

In conclusion, I will send out some anonymous messages to various people who may or may not know what I’m talking about:

– Psycho Chick: You hurt my feelings and don’t care. That doesn’t make you an interesting, mysterious realist living in some Gen X goth novel. It makes you a bitch.

– To The Man I’m In Love With But Doesn’t Know Me From Adam: You inspired me to finish my book, to start working out again in earnest, to find a personal style, to be more open about myself, my feelings and the things I like. To explore other avenues. You made me feel happy and cool and fun and exciting for a little while regardless of only talking with you twice. And you know what? You’ll never get to know that. I’ll never get to tell you that even though I was planning on doing so next week, and I know that you’re great enough that you would have taken the time to listen to it. That opportunity has been taken from me through no fault of my own.

– To Mom: I love you, but having YOU tell me I’m pretty and talented doesn’t really count. That’s your job.

– I LOVE YOU BOY. IN THE MIDST OF ALL THIS CRAP, YOU MAKE ME HAPPIER THAN ANYONE ON THE PLANET. AND YOU COULD HAVE BAILED OUT LONG AGO.

– To The First Literary Agent: You nearly drove me to alcoholism

– To My “Boyfriend” Highschool: YOU MADE ME WASTE MY ENTIRE ADOLESCENCE BECAUSE YOU CONVINCED ME I WAS WORTHLESS TO EVERYONE ELSE.

So anyway. It’s friday. The work week is over and I’m going to try and blank out everything from, oh, July 5th until today and see if I can’t get back to being myself.

Thanks for listening.

jarbaby

2

I don’t know you all that well, and I’m somewhat lacking in the ability to find the right words, but I’ll say one thing, at least.

I find you one of the more creative folks around the SDMB. Every now and then I’ll let loose a blistering stream of invective with another installment of the “My rage burns” series, but I always prefer to read your version of calling folks out in the Pit.

‘assbiscuit’? That makes me laugh ten times more than describing the rage I get from hot pizza cheese burning the roof of my mouth.

3

I have a whole comfort regiment right here for you:

8:00 - 8:30 Primal Scream Therapy
8:30 - 9:00 Beat the Shit out of Inanimate Objects
9:00 - 9:15 break for oreos and milk
9:15 - 10:00 Deep breathing meditation
10:00 - 11:00 Aromatherapy body massage with warm almond oil, lavender scented towels, and a masseuse with large, strong hands
11:00 - 11:30 Coloring with crayons, Bugs Bunny cartoons
11:30 - 12:30 Lunch (comfort foods including chocolate pudding and/or jello)
12:30 - 1:30 Naptime, teddy bear provided
1:30 - 2:30 Free time silliness; pillow fights encouraged
2:30 - 3:00 Story Time: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
3:00 - 4:00 Playground: please take turns on the slide, and everybody gets their own swing. Sand castle building optional.
4:00 - 4:30 Tea time: gloves, hats, stoles, and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off provided.
4:30 - 6:00 Your Choice: Pyro Circle (burn things up!), Barbie Must Die (most creative gets blue ribbon), or Puddle Stomping
6:00 - 7:00 Dinner (more comfort food, food fight at end optional)
7:00 - 8:00 Manicures, Pedicures, and Hairdos
8:00 - 10:00 Pagan Pajama Party (favors provided)
10:00 Lights Out

Here’s to hoping you feel better soon.

4

My first thought when I saw another Pit thread by you was that you must be having the week from hell.

Damn, Jess. I had no idea how bad. I’d give you a hug but I know how you feel about those.

But you are smart, you are creative, you are funny, and, based on the pic I saw of you and the hubby, pretty damned cute and I refuse to believe that you are frumpy, untalented, washed up or an old bat.

5

:little voice:
[sub]I like you[/sub]

Never expect life to be everything the media tells us. I’m convinced we buy into the Madison Avenue schlock a lot more than we realize. Plus, don’t compare your life to some rose-colored scheme you set up a while ago. It’s good to have goals but don’t kick yourself too hard when you don’t reach them.

Life has sucked for you lately. You’ve put out a lot of energy and not seen any return. However, don’t fret. Don’t let it beat you down! The only thing constant about life is that it’s full of change. I know it helps me to remember that - nothing lasts forever and that includes times of absolute suckage.

I wish I could teach or instill the lesson that it took me a long time to learn: Other people’s opinions aren’t worth a flying f***. Period. It’s only what you think of yourself that matters.

Except for my opinion, of course! :smiley: As I told another good friend this week, I think you’re the sh**.

Let’s talk at ChiDope - I can relate on some of these things.

6

Can you believe it? I read the entire thing. And I actually understood a great deal more of it than any other random schmoe because I’ve read and remembered some of the other threads on the topic.
Lots of people have. You’re worth reading. You’re worth remembering.

One thing I found particularly ironic about the post, on a number of levels, was this:

Let’s evaluate this a bit. Your highschool boyfriend had convinced you that you were worthless and you hate him for it. But you got over him, right? You’ve moved on. But right now YOU’VE convinced yourself that you’re worthless. Why can’t you get over it the same way and move on?
And by making the statement in the first place, you’re already showing that you CAN move on. Think about it. If you still consider yourself worthless, you wouldn’t have put that sentence in past tense. You were worthless, but you’re not anymore. So think then, about the progess you’ve made to yourself over the years.
And why have you made all that progress anyway? If nothing matters, why not go back to the state you were in, in high school?

Because it does matter and you know it. You just need to know you know it.

So ends my Fruedian speech.

(oh yeah…and sometimes a jarbaby is just a jarbaby).

7

A little clarification:

Arden do you mean this pic? Because I must sadly report that he is not my husband. He is the lead singer of Rammstein. My DREAM husband, and The Man Who Doesn’t Know Me From Adam :smiley:

Thanks for all the kind words people. I know it sounds like I’m begging for compliments or attention, but really, I just felt like writing it all out.

Every response to this thread made me a little teary eyed (but in a happy way). Anyone who says the internet is impersonal is a cockawl.
jarbaby

8

Sorry you’re having a shitty week, jarbaby. We don’t know each other, but you are one of my favorite posters here on the SDMB. Funny, smart, foul-mouthed – everything you want in a poster. So I hope you feel better.

9

cockawl? :smiley:

Yes, sorry, that was the one. It’s been awhile since I saw it. I( didn’t know/forgot. :frowning:

You’re still cute as a button.

10

jarbaby-

Check your mailbox. That is, if you don’t mind mail from random Dopers.

-Walt

11

Hey phouka, wanna come over? I could use me one of those regimens.

jarbaby, I’m so sorry to hear how you’re feeling. I’ve gone through similar periods, especially regarding the fact that (as silly as this might sound) I’m probably never going to open a marine sancturary or get to research things in a submersible. My job does not, in any appreciable way, make the world a better place, and that’s what pains me.

However, I’ve been working on accepting that I do make the world a better place in other, smaller ways. I got a Little Sister. I planted some trees. I pick up litter and always throw my trash in designated trash-collecting spots. I take good care of my pets and donate to the Humane Society. And I bet you have a whole list of good things you do that definitely improve the world. Hell, you do right here on this message board, by cracking my shit up (and lots and lots of other people, too). None of them may get you on the cover of a magazine, or in bed with the thousands of celebrities you fantasize about, but they’re worthwhile and your husband and true friends (and mom!) appreciate them.

Getting published and on stage again are certainly not out of the question, so don’t give up on them. I will totally buy your book. I’m even in Chicago now & then, so I could see your play! You’re already making money in advance!

12

Or a marine sanctuary, either.

I would also like to add that it’s probably a good thing that you won’t be screwing all those hot celebrities. You’d get all tired, and sweaty, possibly sore, mysterious rashes could appear, you’d wind up stalked… really, an altogether bad idea. You’re doing the right thing, staying unfamous (for now) and married.

13

Hey, jarbabyj, thought I’d offer a bit of wisdom (?) and commiserating.

My first agent was pretty good. Until he died, that is. After that, it was a succession of 25 literary agencies telling me “Thanks, but no thanks.” Right now a smaller publisher is taking a look at a sample of my manuscript. I guess what I’m saying is, don’t give up on writing. You definitely have a unique way with words.

The hardest time for me to maintain a workout regimen or jog is when I’m depressed. Conversely, the best possible thing you can do at this point is exercise your body – it gets the adrenaline pumping and can help you shake depression. If you can somehow force yourself to work out, it will probably make you feel better.

I don’t know what you look like, so I can’t comment on that portion of your post. However, what difference does that make? Some truly wonderful people throughout history were dog-ugly. You think people can look at you and figure out you’d be creative and warped enough to coin a phrase like “cockwrench”? You’re like an iceberg – it ain’t what’s on the surface that counts, because there’s a buttload of stuff hidden away for someone lucky enough to find it.

Gotta question you on one thing, though. You express tremendous love for your husband, but then you include in your post an anonymous letter to the man you’re in love with? What’s up with that?

14

If it’s any help, I was at about the same place two weeks ago. I wish I’d stopped writing in my journal; the despair and rage and bad poetry I came up with while in the middle of it are pretty upsetting.

And it’s not enough that all the current stuff seems to add up and overwhelm you, but just when you’re completely down, all the bad crap from your past wakes up and joins the pigpile.

It passed. I shut the friend who was dicking me around out of my life completely, after fulfilling my obligations to him. I told my real friends, the ones who stuck by me in all of this, that I really appreciate them, and all they do for me, then I did some nice stuff for them. And I joined an aikido class, because I’ve always wanted to, and it’s doing good stuff to my mind to get the crap beaten out of me for a few hours a week. And, I may, if I’m really lucky, get new friends out of it.

I’m not suggesting that you do any of the things I did. I just wanted to remind you; you’ve been here before. You’ve found ways to get through it. In a while, you will have made your life better, and all of this will fall away behind you.

And lastly, I open every single thread I see that you start. I open every thread I see where you’re the most recent poster. Your wit, style, intelligence and poise have impressed the heck out of me, even through the limitations of this medium.

Take care of yourself.

15

Add mine to the voices of “people you don’t know, but who admire you nonetheless.” Also, add mine to the voices of “people who haven’t accomplished nearly as much as they would have liked to.” Like Calvin, I dreamed of becoming a world-famous paleontologist, showered with wealth and prestige, but, alas, it was not to be. Instead, I work in information technology. And the odds of me getting into grad school of any sort are rapidly decreasing. sigh

I hope things improve for you, and I’m sure they will. Unless a bus falls on you or something. That would suck.

16

Hi Jar.

I don’t often get involved in the interpersonal threads, but this one rang a bell.

BunnyGirl was right on. And I’d like to add my two cents because it may help.

You sound like a pretty dynamic person. Lots of interests and aspirations. And you may have had some times in your life that were intense and glamorous. I think I’m that way too. I had a fairly high-profile job for a while. It was fun, got me lots of attention, and fed my ego.

Now I’m a little older and things have calmed down a little. Although still young at 30, a few thoughts have started to haunt me:

  • Middle age is not that far off.
  • My present job is as unglamorous as my old job was glamorous.
  • Some of my dreams from earlier that could have happened, now are highly unlikely.

It’s hard for smart, achieving people to accept limitations, which is what my little list there represents. If we had done nothing and had no expectations, I think it would be easier. That’s the curse of being a dynamic person. You are always striving for more, and it’s tough when obstacles present themselves.

Did you know Buzz Aldrin had a nervous breakdown not long after he came back from the moon? He was an over-achiever for his whole life. But after Apollo 11 they were never going to let him fly again. And how could he possibly top that?

So I’ve always seen Aldrin’s story as a cautionary tale. While I always want to be achieving and doing new things, I try not to let the bad news reality sometimes deals me end the game for me. Sometimes it’s a matter of getting new goals or re-evaluating old ones.

Truth be told, I’m terrified of growing old. But everyone else seems to find something to do with themselves, so I expect I will too.

One last thing I would urge you to think about it is the negative affect of negative people. I can be seriously brought down by nasty people, and have sometimes found it necessary to prune my circle of friends. I hate like hell to let people go, especially if they are needy in some way. But the fact is some folks need more help than I can give them. I’ll help a person up to the point where they are taking such a toll on me that it is dragging me down with them. It’s not good, it’s not bad. It just happens.

Hope this helped in some way. All the best.

17

Oh, I’m not really in love with him, so much as I have a giggly, warm belly admiration for him. Hubby knows all about it. I mean, he’s a celebrity from a different country, it’s not like I’m having an affair. :smiley: Boy is in love with Kate Winslet in the same way.

We just have this understanding. :wink:

And once again, to everyone, thanks so much. I’ve taken every word of these responses to heart and it’s really helped. I feel about 7% better already, just knowing that people have felt the same at some point in their life.

jarbaby

18

Are you SURE you want to spend the rest of your life with this man? I mean, Kate WINSLET?

You’re a valued member of this board, jbj. Maybe that ain’t much to you, but I can promise you that my day sure picks up when I read your stuff.

19

jarbabyj, in case you read here first, and don’t check your email constantly, like I do :), I just sent you one.

20

Mystics sometimes refer to this kind of time period as “Long Dark Nights of the Soul.” They refer to it like that because it sounds more poetic–and when Things are Capitalized like That, it makes them inherently more Important, especially when it’s also a Poetic Title–than “feeling like refried shit.”

In that mystical vein, from the Tao Teh Ching, chap 23 (Brian Browne Walker’s translation–not my favored one, but I can’t seem to find my other copy).

I’ve always liked the point of that chapter. This too shall pass. Bad times peak and end as surely as good ones do. Frequently, the bad ones aren’t so painful in and of themselves; the pain comes from our constantly-running interior narrative of them back at ourselves.

It’s not so much that a positive outlook magically makes life better–life is simply what life is. Leave aside the concentrate-on-Tao bit, and it’s good secular sense–life is a complex tapestry, and often we need to deliberately focus on details lest we stop seeing them. Like just how beautiful and good large parts of it are.

All philosophy aside, I enjoy reading your posts. That may not be worth much, but it’s already obvious that I’m on a large bandwagon there.