Between a rock and a hard place

What do you do when itty-bitty problems you've become accustomed to - to the extent they're normal parts of your everyday life and hence, not "problems" in the true sense anymore - seem suddenly to take on gargantuan proportions and threaten to overwhelm and flatten you? It reminds me of Sisyphus, except that my version has the boulder crushing him as it rolls back down the underworldly hill. And then he has to roll the rock back up the hill and endure the same damn thing all over again. For eternity.

So what do you do when you feel the pebbles being thrown or tossed your way are as heavy as rocks? And it feels like it's being done to you forever?

Why, you wallow in your misery, of course. Like a pig cavorting in the mud just before its first and last trip to the slaughterhouse. You let the mud and the blackness consume your consciousness, you rant and rave and oink out the equivalent of "FUCK IT ALL!!!!" at the top of your voice, with your nose and eyes all red. (If you're the type of person who looks glorious at the heights of rage or the depths of despair, screw you. Other people look damn ugly when they're in those situations, but that's ok. They're feeling ugly anyway.) And then you drink yourself senseless or run circles around the cows or indulge in the 30-minute orgasms that pigs are said to have.

And then you get over it.

Because you realize that your problems - overwhelming as they seem to be - don't hold a candle to the people and things you have in your life. That these people don't mind if you wallow in the pigsty every now and then to scream obscenities; in fact, they'll accompany you to it, knowing it'll do you good. Then they'll help clean you up and give you a cold beer or a hot cup of coffee.

And then you realize just how lucky you are: that you're in full command of your senses, that you can appreciate the smell of a new day, hear the laughter of a child, cry at maudlin sentiments. That you have people to love and who love you, that you can help other people get through the day, that you're lucky just to even be alive at this moment.

For all its blackness, life is precious and beautiful. And you know that after the darkness, no matter how long it seems to last, will come a peaceful and hopeful dawn.


Sisyphus and pigs be damned. Oh, wait. The former IS already damned, but let's not curse the latter. They do find happiness in their own way. (30 minutes? I'll be damned!)