So, big shot "singer" Kanye West claims to be 53 million dollars in debt and he wants Mark Zuckerberg to bail him out. Seriously. Seriously? That's his response to his own irresponsibility, getting others to save his sorry butt? What's this world coming to?
The first time I heard about internet panhandling was when I read Karyn Bosnak's book, Save Karyn : One Shopoholic's Journey to Debt and Back. Her website SaveKaryn.com was started in 2002 and was the predecessor to today's Gofundme.com. She was a working girl in New York City, totally enthralled with shopping and owning name brands. When she found herself in debt, she did what hadn't been done before. She listed a website and asked kindhearted people to each send $1. This novelty appealed to many, and soon she was out of debt and rolling in the dough thanks to, as Blanche DuBois said, "...the kindness of strangers." It didn't take long for others to realize what a goldmine this internet panhandling could be, thus the proliferation of sites such as the aforementioned GoFundMe.
Recently, in a quiet, neighboring town, two officers of the law were tragically murdered in the line of duty. A few hours later on the same day, a GoFundMe account appeared asking for money for the families. I was taken aback, seriously. Seriously? Why was an account established? Don't these men have insurance? Don't the police have special funds to take care of their own? And just who was behind this account? Surely, not those who were grieving. Later, another account was established, this one being the official fundraising account. Huh? Is this how America now responds to tragedy? Whatever happened to obituaries asking in lieu of flowers contributions be made towards funeral expenses or college accounts for survivors' children or a charity the deceased supported? Whatever happened to making these suggestions to friends instead of the general public?
Don't get me wrong. I have contributed to the GoFundMe accounts for many people I personally know. I make no judgement about them asking for help, that's what friends are for. But has it gotten out of hand? When my brother was diagnosed with cancer, quite a few people asked for his account information so they could donate. Bless their hearts for wanting to help, but we had never even considered doing an internet fundraiser. His medical expenses were our family's responsibility, not the world's.
If you Google, there are a lot of these sites available allowing you to beg for money. It is unbelievable what people ask/beg for. Lots of people expect the general public to graciously fund their weddings, honeymoons, Caribbean vacations, boob implants, boob reductions, facelifts, mission trips, braces, gambling losses, bad decisions and so on. And lots of people get really angry when their financial demands aren't met. Almost as entertaining as the down-on-their-luck stories people tell, are the angry rants they post when the money isn't coming in. Cyberbeg.com is full of sad, sad stories. I happen to believe the majority of those are scams, but what do I know? Anyhow, there is no denying what started as one silly young woman strapped by debt has bloomed into big business.
But Kanye? Are you really so narcissistic that you feel entitled to Mark Zuckerberg's money? (That's a rhetorical question, by the way.) America, do you really expect others to pay your bills? It's scary to me, but too many are probably thinking, why not? Why not me?
Maybe I should give this internet panhandling a try. If you like this blog, feel free to send donations my way. I'm retired and on a fixed income. And, I'd really, really like to take a cruise around the world. A nice long cruise, in a suite, with a balcony. I promise to blog my adventures in paradise as a special thank you to my supporters. Seriously.
Monday, February 15, 2016
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Happy?
I cyberstalked someone on Facebook today. We are not "friends," but she reveals a lot of personal information on her page, and her life fascinates me. We are about the same age. We are physically shaped the same. But unlike me, she wears fun clothes, clingy clothes and flaunts her ample figure and big bosom. She smiles broadly. And she smiles a lot. She loves her job, her relatively new husband, her friends, her hair, her busy and fulfilling life. She is not particularly attractive, but her aura enchants those in her life and they see her as beautiful. She is one of the most vivacious people I sort of know.
She is happy. Very, very happy.
And I am so jealous of her. Because I can't imagine that I will ever be happy again.
I've been told that life is a choice and we choose whether-or-not to be happy. I certainly don't remember choosing miserable. I used to be a lot like her. I used to be happy. It's gone. That part of my life is gone, and I don't see it coming back.
Understandably, this has been a terrible year for me as I watched my brother die. I helped my sister with the caregiving, and I probably did a lousy job. I was squeamish with a lot of things that involved bodily fluids. I'm not very strong, so I was always afraid of hurting him. He took out a lot of anger on me, and I held it and was deeply hurt by it. So, I probably wasn't always very nice to him. We once had to go to the "principal's office" (the social worker) after a fight we had on the way to radiation that carried on into the facility. I think that was the day I just stopped smiling. Real smiling, I mean. I can paste one on my face, but I can't feel it.
For months, I didn't do anything Facebook worthy. My sister and the girls traveled to China. I stayed with Glenn. I do not regret it; I'm glad I could do it for my family. But my sense of adventure is gone now. If you offered me that trip today, I'd say no. My outings were short because I didn't want to leave him alone; so instead of a beach trip, I didn't plan anything more than a trip to the grocery store or an outing to the Superstore for something he needed. Somehow, those months have scarred me because I can't get back into the groove of going out and doing things. I no longer have that desire for adventure, or the energy to have "fun." I feel serious anxiety about going anywhere. I want to stay in my house and play games on the computer or watch endless reruns of Grey's Anatomy. Are there degrees of agoraphobia? Am I on the agoraphobic spectrum?
This person I cyberstalked has a lot of friends, different kinds of friends. She's always doing things and going places with groups of friends. Or with other couples, because people who are married do "couple" things and they like even numbers when they do them. People ask her to join them, they want to do things with her. They want to take pictures with her. I'm so jealous of the fun she has, of the joy she feels every day upon waking up.
I learned that caregiving can be a very lonely thing. The whole time I was in Pennsylvania, I did not see one person that wasn't medically related or a personal friend of my brother's. I have to say, I miss his friends. They visited faithfully and brought joy and hope to the long days. I completely fell off the social register. I rarely saw anyone from my old life. Months and months of that can do a number on a person. I am now used to the solitude. It's my new norm. I may hate it, but I have no energy to change it.
I envy Facebook Woman her happiness. I don't believe I will ever be truly happy again. I am so full of grief and anger that I don't believe I have enough years left in my life to work it out and get past it. I'm angry at the people who let me down. I am angry that I lost a dear friend to cancer a few weeks before I lost my brother. I am angry that I was so helpless to do any real good when my brother suffered. I am angry that I can't sleep because I am haunted by the last week of his life playing over and over again in my head. I am angry because I feel so alone all the time. I feel sad that my prayers seem to be falling on deaf ears.
Is that all there is? That Peggy Lee song used to haunt me. I reread the lyrics recently, and even Peggy brings out the booze and goes dancing with her friends. That's the most depressing song I know, and even that song is happier than I feel anymore.
Is this just a stage of grief, or is this the rest of my life? Will I ever be happy again? Will I ever again go to bed grateful for what I have and wake up thankful for what's to be?
I recently read an article by Elizabeth Kupferman that touched me deeply because she understood exactly how I was feeling. I got the feeling that what I'm experiencing is more normal than abnormal. Part of her advice was to share these feelings. So, I wrote my blog. And now you know. Here's a link to her amazing article.
http://www.expressivecounseling.com/grief-loneliness-friends/
(You'll need to copy/paste this address, I can't get the link to work.)
She is happy. Very, very happy.
And I am so jealous of her. Because I can't imagine that I will ever be happy again.
I've been told that life is a choice and we choose whether-or-not to be happy. I certainly don't remember choosing miserable. I used to be a lot like her. I used to be happy. It's gone. That part of my life is gone, and I don't see it coming back.
Understandably, this has been a terrible year for me as I watched my brother die. I helped my sister with the caregiving, and I probably did a lousy job. I was squeamish with a lot of things that involved bodily fluids. I'm not very strong, so I was always afraid of hurting him. He took out a lot of anger on me, and I held it and was deeply hurt by it. So, I probably wasn't always very nice to him. We once had to go to the "principal's office" (the social worker) after a fight we had on the way to radiation that carried on into the facility. I think that was the day I just stopped smiling. Real smiling, I mean. I can paste one on my face, but I can't feel it.
For months, I didn't do anything Facebook worthy. My sister and the girls traveled to China. I stayed with Glenn. I do not regret it; I'm glad I could do it for my family. But my sense of adventure is gone now. If you offered me that trip today, I'd say no. My outings were short because I didn't want to leave him alone; so instead of a beach trip, I didn't plan anything more than a trip to the grocery store or an outing to the Superstore for something he needed. Somehow, those months have scarred me because I can't get back into the groove of going out and doing things. I no longer have that desire for adventure, or the energy to have "fun." I feel serious anxiety about going anywhere. I want to stay in my house and play games on the computer or watch endless reruns of Grey's Anatomy. Are there degrees of agoraphobia? Am I on the agoraphobic spectrum?
This person I cyberstalked has a lot of friends, different kinds of friends. She's always doing things and going places with groups of friends. Or with other couples, because people who are married do "couple" things and they like even numbers when they do them. People ask her to join them, they want to do things with her. They want to take pictures with her. I'm so jealous of the fun she has, of the joy she feels every day upon waking up.
I learned that caregiving can be a very lonely thing. The whole time I was in Pennsylvania, I did not see one person that wasn't medically related or a personal friend of my brother's. I have to say, I miss his friends. They visited faithfully and brought joy and hope to the long days. I completely fell off the social register. I rarely saw anyone from my old life. Months and months of that can do a number on a person. I am now used to the solitude. It's my new norm. I may hate it, but I have no energy to change it.
I envy Facebook Woman her happiness. I don't believe I will ever be truly happy again. I am so full of grief and anger that I don't believe I have enough years left in my life to work it out and get past it. I'm angry at the people who let me down. I am angry that I lost a dear friend to cancer a few weeks before I lost my brother. I am angry that I was so helpless to do any real good when my brother suffered. I am angry that I can't sleep because I am haunted by the last week of his life playing over and over again in my head. I am angry because I feel so alone all the time. I feel sad that my prayers seem to be falling on deaf ears.
Is that all there is? That Peggy Lee song used to haunt me. I reread the lyrics recently, and even Peggy brings out the booze and goes dancing with her friends. That's the most depressing song I know, and even that song is happier than I feel anymore.
Is this just a stage of grief, or is this the rest of my life? Will I ever be happy again? Will I ever again go to bed grateful for what I have and wake up thankful for what's to be?
I recently read an article by Elizabeth Kupferman that touched me deeply because she understood exactly how I was feeling. I got the feeling that what I'm experiencing is more normal than abnormal. Part of her advice was to share these feelings. So, I wrote my blog. And now you know. Here's a link to her amazing article.
http://www.expressivecounseling.com/grief-loneliness-friends/
(You'll need to copy/paste this address, I can't get the link to work.)
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