LovebirdsFlying
Active member
- Joined
- Aug 10, 2015
- Messages
- 36
- Age
- 60
- Gender
- Female
- Religious Affiliation
- Christian
- Political Affiliation
- Conservative
- Marital Status
- Married
This just came up in a conversation with my husband yesterday. We all have those minor irritations that get under our skin. We know in our heads that it's inconsequential, but knowing it and feeling it are two different things. The one that we talked about yesterday was when people even jokingly pretend to chide you for something you have no control over. I've seen adults tease children who aren't growing very fast. Tell them they'd better get busy and start growing. That kind of thing.
The one we were discussing was an experience I had when I was hospitalized for depression. It's a good idea to participate in the social activities when they're scheduled, because if you don't, it works against you when they evaluate your progress. So I went along with playing Bingo, even though I hate Bingo. Why do I hate it? Because it's nothing but chance. There is no skill involved except the ability to read five letters and the numbers 1 through 75. If I'm going to win a game, I want it to be because I played well, not because luck was on my side. And if I'm going to lose a game, I want it to be something I can work on and get better at, not because luck simply *wasn't* on my side.
So there we were, playing Bingo for token prizes, maybe valued at a dollar or less. Randomness being what it is, some people are winning over and over, while others (including me, naturally) aren't winning at all. The ones who are winning repeatedly are strutting their stuff, acting like top dog, as if they're winning because they actually are superior players. As for me, when I'm in a state of depression and something like this happens, I start thinking even God is against me. My logic is that He can control chance, and I cannot, so there must be some reason He doesn't want me to win, which means He is punishing me for something, or He must not like me as much as He likes the others. I know I'm not thinking straight there, but that's depressive illness for you. It didn't help when staff started making up these pity rules, such as, "After you've won the fourth time, you have to give your prize to somebody who hasn't won yet." Um, no thanks. I don't want a prize if I didn't win it myself. It's not about whether or not I have a Snickers bar or tealight candle or a bandanna. If I really want one of those things, I can buy it. The important thing is, I'm not going to walk out of there feeling good about myself because somebody felt sorry for me and gave it to me.
But then the nurses started trying to "rally up" those who weren't winning, by inciting a sense of competition. "Come on, ladies. The guys are winning too many games! We're going to have to catch up!" As if--and this is what I keep stressing--anybody has any control over what numbers get called! Ugh, if I never play another Bingo game in my life, it will be all right with me.
So, what trifling little things really bug you?
The one we were discussing was an experience I had when I was hospitalized for depression. It's a good idea to participate in the social activities when they're scheduled, because if you don't, it works against you when they evaluate your progress. So I went along with playing Bingo, even though I hate Bingo. Why do I hate it? Because it's nothing but chance. There is no skill involved except the ability to read five letters and the numbers 1 through 75. If I'm going to win a game, I want it to be because I played well, not because luck was on my side. And if I'm going to lose a game, I want it to be something I can work on and get better at, not because luck simply *wasn't* on my side.
So there we were, playing Bingo for token prizes, maybe valued at a dollar or less. Randomness being what it is, some people are winning over and over, while others (including me, naturally) aren't winning at all. The ones who are winning repeatedly are strutting their stuff, acting like top dog, as if they're winning because they actually are superior players. As for me, when I'm in a state of depression and something like this happens, I start thinking even God is against me. My logic is that He can control chance, and I cannot, so there must be some reason He doesn't want me to win, which means He is punishing me for something, or He must not like me as much as He likes the others. I know I'm not thinking straight there, but that's depressive illness for you. It didn't help when staff started making up these pity rules, such as, "After you've won the fourth time, you have to give your prize to somebody who hasn't won yet." Um, no thanks. I don't want a prize if I didn't win it myself. It's not about whether or not I have a Snickers bar or tealight candle or a bandanna. If I really want one of those things, I can buy it. The important thing is, I'm not going to walk out of there feeling good about myself because somebody felt sorry for me and gave it to me.
But then the nurses started trying to "rally up" those who weren't winning, by inciting a sense of competition. "Come on, ladies. The guys are winning too many games! We're going to have to catch up!" As if--and this is what I keep stressing--anybody has any control over what numbers get called! Ugh, if I never play another Bingo game in my life, it will be all right with me.
So, what trifling little things really bug you?
