Too Down To Get Up?

So was I until I read a story here that kicked my ass

Yesterday, I realized that lately, I’m about as miserable as a person can be. And that, in the coming months this misery will only be intensified by the continuing quarantine and our struggle in attempting to contain the plague known as Covid-19.

On another note, I’ve also been bummed about the fact that I have another uber-expensive dental procedure on my horizon that I’m opting to be knocked out for, money be damned. And I’m someone who takes scrupulous care of her teeth. Boo hoo! Poor me!

It seems that for so many of us, if we’re not worrying about our health, we’re fretting about money. How much do we have? How long will it last? And how can we get more? Hell. That’s no way to live. But live this way we do. Often I wonder, what must it feel like to have the ability to shed worry like a snake sheds its skin?

So I’ve been pissing and moaning and moping and doing my best impersonation of a “walking rain cloud,” as my husband has referred to me on occasion.

Happy Holidays

Plus, knowing that we’ll all be bombarded with messages on television and in advertising circulars heralding the “most wonderful time of the year” even though we’ll be spending it at home slogging through the same shit we’ve been up to our earlobes in for the last six months, is almost too dark to contemplate.

And then, lest we forget, we’ll be confronted with happy online alternatives for Black Friday and Cyber Monday as opposed to trampling our fellow citizens in malls in our slavish attempt to snag those deals, by God! Although, I suppose there’s a good chance that many of the brick and mortar stores will be open after all. I don’t know and care even less. As shitty as that sounds, I don’t mean it to be as I know Black Friday, especially, is a “thing” for so many.

Plus, as I write this, I am chilled physically, and emotionally numb at the prospect of four more years of the devil in the White House. What will we do? How will we live? Affordable healthcare will be slashed, we’ll lose all the momentum we’ve gained for women's’ rights, gays, and the LGBT movement, and the racial divide will become a gaping chasm harkening the days of Jim Crow. Possibly worse, as Trump is contemptuous and dismissive of any person of color — black, brown, purple. It doesn’t matter.

In Trump’s America, white is right, especially those white folks who refuse to wear masks because who needs protection from a hoax? MAGA crap? That’s another story. Bring on the hats, the T-shirts, and the cup holders. For all I know, there are MAGA jockstraps for those supplicants who actually have balls.

The United States is a nation steeped in shame. An embarrassment for those of us formerly proud Americans who realized, and were thankful for, their good fortune to be born in the “greatest country on earth.” Instead, we are now a global laughingstock. So lacking in morals and basic intelligence that we elected a noted ass-clown to hold the highest office of the land. Four years down this bumpy road and it’s still difficult to fathom.

“This way to the egress,” indeed. What a bunch of chumps the MAGA crowd is. As ignorant and contemptible as their Fuhrer. If they were to disappear tomorrow, if the Kool-Aid finally did its work, I’d run into the streets yelling, “There is a God!”

So Funny I Forgot To Laugh

If this wasn’t so frightening and sad, our plight would be nothing more than an SNL joke that’s run its course. And even “frightening” doesn’t cut it. Nightmares are frightening. The Boogeyman is frightening. Our situation is desperate, toxic…and tragic for so many poor souls who needlessly lost their lives.

No. I’m not looking forward to the holidays. If it wasn’t for my husband and our three cats who need me, I’d choose to take a pill and sleep through all the glitz, glitter, and forced “happy talk.” Perhaps this will change, I can’t say. There are days when I feel, as my husband referred to me, “indomitable.” And others when I have to struggle mightily, to keep a good thought. To believe that, “this too shall pass.” And of course, it will, but at what cost?

I’ve written before about going through the motions, about feeling like an automaton. But, I am getting to the point, and quickly, where I don’t even feel like doing that.

At least I didn’t. Until today, when I happened upon a couple of stories by Kevin Swan, an amazing writer here on Medium who has been living with ALS, commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, for the last eight years.

I hope he doesn’t mind my mentioning him here but someone so inspiring is hard to forget and worthy of acknowledgment. Here is the story that blew me away and made me ashamed of my pity party for one:

Now, ALS, full name Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, is a cruel motherfucker of a condition, a neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord and there is no cure. Early signs include twitching muscles, difficulty walking, frequent falls from weakness in the limbs and that’s just the beginning. Kevin is way beyond this point but in his openness to write about his condition, displays a level of guts and class that I find humbling.

He spends his days in a power wheelchair that is fitted with a special “eye gaze bar” that tracks his eye movement. This is how he “types.” And wow, does he ever.

Stephen Hawking lived with ALS for fifty-five years. I can only hope that Kevin Swan not only goes the distance but surpasses Mr. Hawking. He certainly possesses the spirit and a raging will to live, as you’ll see if you take the time to check out his profile.

Because I don’t want to say much more, or overstep my bounds here, I’ll just encourage you to read his stories for yourself, especially if you’ve been feeling like I have. Sad, tired of the bullshit and steeling myself for bad news on election day. Full of self-pity and in need of a good, hard kick in the ass.

Skip The “Tipsters” For A Day

You know who I’m talking about. The how to make it on Medium experts. The crap-mongers. The “I did it, so can you,” bullshitters. You can always go back to them. Instead, read about how one individual, in the direst of circumstances, isn’t just making it on Medium, he’s making it through.

And I for one am going to take a lesson.

© Sherry McGuinn, 2020. All Rights Reserved.

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

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