My therapist commented today that I seem to be handling this whole mess really well, despite all the shit that keeps landing on me. Not the first time she’s mentioned it.
I’m stressed out and burned out and everything else ‘out’ you can think of that goes with it. But my main coping mechanism for all of this is one thing: humor.
I don’t know exactly when this began. I sure as hell know I wasn’t using it 22 years ago during my abusive relationship, but certainly since then. I first noticed when my mom developed Alzheimer’s and once everyone else in the family realized I was right five years before when I saw the early signs. After that point, my dad and I would talk on the phone at least weekly. He’d tell me about this or that incident with mom. The marshmallows in the microwave, how she lost her license, the cooking of cat food… and many others. There were bad stories as well. She almost poisoned herself by mixing in laundry detergent with her Ensure (dad caught it in time, as she was stirring it). But through it all, we found humor. The marshmallows and the driver’s license were laughable/facepalm moments (I would’ve given anything to be there with a video camera recording my mother telling the police officer to ‘go to hell’ … disrespecting authority and swearing were two things my mother was against).
We found things to laugh about. It reminds me of Robin Williams stand up segment below.
So, yeah, I have to laugh at the little things. I have to just know that the bigger picture may suck really badly, but sometimes those little things… you have to look at them a little differently. The world may feel like it’s beating me, or whomever, into a bloody pulp, but that’s just the big stuff. Underneath all that shit is something I can at least smile about. May not be immediately, but I can find it. I can see it. It isn’t easy. But finding those little things makes the big things a tiny bit more tolerable.
Ya got to be a little crazy to survive life.