Disappointments are to the soul what the thunder-storm is to the air

"Society cares for the individual only so far as he is profitable"

Simone De Beauvoir

I hate feeling let down. I hate being pigeon-holed. I loathe being held-back. Especially when any of these things are born out of financial considerations. As hard as I try not to take things to heart, or to look upon misfortune as something personal, I still really struggle with feelings of disappointment. It's as though a vital part of my emotional make-up is MIA. Where other people bounce back, or even worse, appear unaffected in the first place, I torture myself with questions that cannot be answered. I rake over a million 'what if's'. I reprimand myself for permitting la me to be placed in such a vulnerable position. I get drunk and eat too many Doritos.

The trouble is, it seems to be happening far too frequently these days (not the Doritos part - I am a picture of virtue). I doubt that it is a result of my insanely high expectations of people. I reluctantly surrendered these after the billionth time someone I love decided to drop trow and number two on me from a great height. I doubt it is just a run of bad luck (too many things have happened for it ALL to be coincidental). Instead I wonder if, in fact, it is just down to.... well, me.

Previously I have wondered if I am just a bit crap at processing information that affects me directly. If, as Edward de Bono tells us, I predominantly use my Red thinking hat instead of my Black and White hats? I am ruled by my heart, not my head. Thus, I regularly feel screwed over because (as I mentioned before), I am definitely missing fundamental tenets of a 'normal', logical brain.

So maybe I need to strap on a pair, man-up (so to speak) and start telling people what I actually think.

Fine. Knackers in hand, here goes:

You should have given me the chance. In not doing so, all you have managed to achieve is royally fucking me off.

Douches, the lot of them.