I’m told I have (at best) a sarcastically cynical point of view. I do, I admit it. I see the world in grays, not black and white, and it has made me extremely cynical regarding people and society in general. It’s also why I’ve always resisted the urge to study sociology. Anyway, I’m normally a positive cynic. Things could always be worse, right? Yes, it can! Oddly, I’m hardly surprised when it does happen.
However, everyone has a limit- and I’ve seen even positive people hit that limit, so don’t lie to yourself. After a bad year of major medical problems, several family crises, employment, continual unemployment, deaths, legal trauma, car difficulties, etc.- I was ready to give up. And that brought us up to June. Things didn’t even attempt to improve until the following January… all right, it was technically February. It was some long, dark, cold months of problem after problem for me, that awful, awful year.
I hit rock bottom and decided I had to run away, get out of my situation, ANYTHING. When a friend called to check on me in August, I told her I was going to run away and take a rowboat to England. She tried to talk me off of the ledge but finally gave in and helped me think of things I’d need for at least the journey and the transatlantic “move.”
Why a row boat, you ask? Well, I ask you, why not?
While I didn’t actually take off for Atlantic Ocean, a few times the next few months I was sorely tempted. As all good friends talk to one another about each other, eventually everyone was helping me pack things into the rowboat when my mood would get low. Honestly, that row boat was the size of an aircraft carrier by the time my luck shifted.
In the end, I survived the year. In retrospect, it could have been worse, and it could have been better, but I came out of that year a stronger person with a completely different life than the one I’d been living. I stuck it out and resisted rowing a boat to England for escape.
Sometimes, though, I wonder if my life would be very different if I had taken that rowboat…