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I don't think it's quite as bad -- I never got married (which is a source of anxiety all its own but I'm also happy I don't have children who depend on me) and my own bout with cancer wasn't nearly as bad as yours.
But the basic story is the same: I worked my ass off, lost my shirt, and wonder why the hell I ever developed a god-damned "work ethic". Several people made considerable money off of my efforts along the way, too. May they choke on every penny.
These days, I have almost no work. I'm going for a contract this week which should bring in some cash for several months, but as soon as the medical collection agencies find out, they'll demand payment for services rendered under a contract of insurance from a company that fortuitously went out of business before the executives lost any of "their own" money.
I stay at home most of the time looking after my mother and grandmother. My mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer, but lo and behold, A Mistake Was Made. She lost half her right lung, but there was no cancer. She's getting better, though. My grandmother, who was 91 this week, is probably dying of congestive heart failure, and I have had to spend more and more time keeping her from killing herself, since she still thinks she is superwoman.
And in a way, I'm happy that I have no social life, since I'd probably not like to hear the usual hard-work-and-blind-faith-in-George-and-Jesus lecture.
There's lots more to the story, too, but I just don't like dwelling on it. Suffice it to say that I am not too pleased with the way the American Dream turned into a long-term state of sleep paralysis for me.
Well, not all hope is lost, and I'm sure that things will start going better for me at some point. For one thing, that programming contract looks pretty good; though I dread the day I go in to wake up my grandmother and she's cold and blue-gray and died in her sleep.
I have no idea why I didn't give it up myself long ago. Like I said, no wife, no kids, no compelling reason to do anything. I suppose I'm just stubborn, or hyperactive, and I never liked alcohol anyway.
Good luck, AlienGirl. You're not alone. The financial engine of our world now depends on sucking the lifeblood out of its servants, so our numbers will continue to grow ... ten thousand every day ... a Nation of Losers who will someday soon be ruled by a small elite of super-rich human sharks.
And like the piscine sharks, they'd better keep moving.
--bkl
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