Y’all, we have another return visitor here on Gilda Sue’s Mail Bag. It’s Frimunt! Hey, Frimunt!
“Dear Gilda Sue, your response to my letter helped, but only for a minute. You made death seem less scary, but, honestly, I don’t really want to die. Not yet. It’s just that the bullcrap of life just keeps piling on. One of my very best friends has turned out to be about as deep as a post-it-note, the career I’ve worked so hard for is not what I hoped it would be, and my marriage to the love of my life is falling apart. I’m a mess over it all. What do I do? Help! Oh God!”
First, let’s be honest about this word,”friend.” You likely only have one, hon, and it’s probably not the one you spend most of your energy on. Tell the last person who showed enthusiasm for whatever it is you’re up to how much she rocks, and redefine “best friend.”
Second, careers are for suckers. Do what you love and do your best to pay the bills. Everything else is damn icing on the cake.
Third, the married folks I know say that marriage is fraught with ups and downs. Most say it’s got more downs than ups. If your marriage is having more downs than ups, congratulations, bubbee! You’re on the right track!
But, honestly, hon, all this pain is your own fault, and it can be avoided if you just cared a little less. Really. All that fiery passion is the source of all your heartache, and you’d do well to snuff that out. Just snuff it!
Now, have a super short cry. Then push it down, bottle it up, and keep moving.