Thirty-four weeks after the first day of the second new year

The other day the steering in my car failed. It’s a good thing I was driving slowly, because I was able to retain control of the car. Of course, now it needs to be fixed. So that’s time that needs to be spent taking care of the repair instead of doing other things I’d planned to do in these so very busy days. It’s disrupting, it’s irritating, and it’s costly, of course. Still, it’s a problem that can be dealt with. The car will be fixed, and a couple of weeks from now I probably won’t remember it ever happened—the experience, the hassle of the repair, the cost in time and money.
But it did lead me to think about reactions. How would you react to such a thing? How do you react to anything? Do you react to the smallest mishap like it’s the end of the world? Do you find yourself getting angry easily, being irritated by things you would have brushed aside in the past? Do you move on or do the thoughts, the emotions, the reactions linger? Do you worry more? Do you think about what could have been if, what could be if, and what will be because frankly, it doesn’t look like anything is going to change?
You know what I think? I think we’re tired. All of us. I think life is hard and the challenges are never-ending. And they’ve been never-ending for too long now. I think that when even the smallest thing happens, when it’s added to the weight you already have on your shoulders it’s unbearable. There’s simply no place for more, no strength for more. You’re tired, and you want something good to happen. You want more good to happen, the place of struggle seems to be growing so fast that good has no chance to keep up with it. And when that small thing happens, even if it’s the smallest thing, you start thinking, why this? Why now? Why at all? The day could have gone on without this happening. Life could have gone on without this happening. You don’t want to deal with it. You just want to go on with your day, your routine, the few good things that give you a sense of stability, of comfort maybe. Comfort, that’s such a rarity.

It’s even more difficult if you’ve had some sort of trauma in your life, or some major change that wasn’t a good one. Not because the big things count more than the smaller ones. They don’t. A lot of small things can cause attrition. Yes, that’s the word I would use. Gradual cumulative attrition. But the big things, it’s like they fill an entire quota of bad things that can happen, all at once. If your fatigue accumulates gradually, there is always the possibility that the good on the way will help with some of the bad. But dealing with a lot all at once, that requires a lot of mental strength. And it’s exhausting.

If there’s a day something bad happens, and you feel you don’t simply want to continue, not now, not immediately, first you want to argue with God, the universe, whoever is out there that might be listening – do that. If you want to negotiate, negotiate. If you want to vent, vent. Just don’t feel no one is listening. Don’t feel helpless. Let it out, let the pain out, and don’t feel there’s only pain ahead, don’t think it’s futile. Because the thing is, good happens.

Always remember, people care. Draw strength from those who love you, and love them back because they need you as much as you need them. And never ever forget that you’re not the only one. Don’t isolate yourself because you think no one understands you, that no one has gone through what you’re going through. Try. This is a big world, and you can reach out to so many people. Good people like you, who’ve been through the same experience. Who understand.

You know what, there’re a couple of other things I want to say here. But not now. They can wait for another day, another week. This post, it should stay as it is. This is all it should say. That it’s okay to have a bad moment. That it’s okay to be tired. That you’re not alone. And you know what else? I hope something good happens to you this week.