Alone Together, Again

This is basically how I live my life. Throughout high school and freshman year college (I'm 19) I was always so concerned about things that were utterly unimportant in hindsight, like not offending people, making friends, not being a shut-in (I've always been an introvert). I've found that simply not caring about stuff has made the biggest improvement in my life satisfaction.

For example, I tried to make friends in the first week of college by talking to random people. I joined some clubs and went to events. This completely failed, I didn't click with anyone; these kinds of things didn't fit with my personality. All of my current friends I've met serendipitously. And, because I stopped caring so much about it, I think I have much better social skills now.

Kind of fits with the Daoist philosophy of wu wei: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wu_wei

EDIT: hah, looks like someone else made the same connection :D

The point that the OP seems to understand, but doesn't explicitly state, is that no life situation, however apparently solid, lasts forever. The first section has a distinct tone of numbed acceptance, the voice of someone who has just experienced absolute horror, and who's view of the world is far more balanced than an ordinary persons. Most of us live under the delusion that we are safe, that our situation is safe, and that tomorrow will be better. This is comforting, and probably useful as a coping mechanism. But it's not true. No matter how healthy you are, you could get sick. No matter how solid your job, you could lose it. No matter how much you love your wife or you think she loves you, she could have an affair and ask for a divorce.

When pain stacks upon pain stacks upon pain until you can't take it and then it keeps going even more for an unimaginable time, something burns away in you, leaving you a kind of stark clarity about the world and yourself. It is a realistic view, but not a happy one. I believe they call it 'shock'.

What we conventionally call 'happy' is actually a pleasant delusion. (Luckily?) this delusion is quite resilient! It seeps back into us, and we start to believe, once again, that everything is actually going to be okay this time around.

You wouldn't think it, but I think it's easier if you don't suffer this sort of torment alone. Consider the life-bending events of 9/11. Overall, I'd say that New Yorkers recovered emotionally really, really fast, mainly because everyone felt that horror and shock. But personal tragedy like this is tough because our culture tolerates friendship that doesn't tolerate "general unpleasantness". Anyone going through this will be a wreck, that's a given. But so often friends will turn their back, unable or unwilling to endure the unpleasant inconvenience of a friend in dire need. This is, of course, inhuman.

So yes, kudos for a well-written piece, and may you find happiness once again (you will).

The bright side of course is that the world is open right now in a way it's never been before. I've spent the last two years bouncing around the globe, mostly in SE Asia. Thanks to the internet and a remotable skillset I can land in a new city tomorrow and have income and probably new contacts willing to show me around town.

This kind of thing is always traumatic but it's a great time to be a hacker with no ties.

I'm not sure I buy this. First off, why are people going to therapy unless something is wrong? Secondly, once this person goes to therapy and ends up asking for a divorce, what makes the other person such a reliable source on whether things were going well?