The Struggle Bus has Broken Down
Struggle Bus getting towed.
There’s no denying it — I’m a proud (and frequent) driver of the Struggle Bus. I used to think the goal was to get off the Bus. Like if I could just hop off at the next stop, all would be good.
After beginning my meditation practice, I’ve learned that getting off isn’t the goal — it’s learning to accept and embrace the Struggle Bus life. This mindset has helped my mental health because it keeps me grounded in my circumstances instead of constantly wishing things were different. And yet, even with acceptance, there are days and weeks where the Struggle Bus just… breaks down. Ever been there? This was one of those weeks.
Monday — I met with a group of friends for dinner, something I always look forward to. Tonight, however, two friends shared their engagement stories, another talked about meeting her new boo, there was a couple married for 15 years, and someone else in a “situationship.” Then there’s me. Fabulously single me. No new boo, no situationship, not even a “possibility.”
My good friend HB (one of the newly engaged) called me later that night to check in. She said she’d felt the same way before — being the only person not in a relationship. Like I said, HB is a good friend.
Tuesday — My sister, who is also my fabulous roommate, came down with an illness on Monday. Even though I masked up and took precautions, I started having digestive issues myself. No fever, just misery.
Wednesday — I chose to go to work despite the digestive problems. My lunch consisted of crackers and ginger ale. Then our department got a talking-to from the assistant director, who said we’ve had three months to improve and haven’t made any progress.
Thursday — I confronted my dad about his unacceptable behavior and didn’t get the response I hoped for. Instead of “I’m sorry, what can I do to make this right?” he said, “So you’re not even going to give me a chance?” Sir… you’ve had 44 years of chances. I gave him two directives: 1) Take time to process, and 2) See. A. Therapist. I’ve only been telling him that for the past ten years.
Friday — I work in maintenance for the parks and rec department. Thursday night, some genius decided it would be funny to do donuts in a park field, leaving tire ruts everywhere. My crew had to get several truckloads of sand and spread it over the damage. Thank you for strengthening my already stellar character. More drama happened at work, too. I later learned through an inside source that one employee had been caught sleeping in his truck. Sigh.
It’s only taken me ten years to find a job I can do while managing treatment-resistant depression — a job with benefits — and now these ignoramuses are on track to sabotage it for me. SMH.
