This Miserable House

Misery Loves Company, That's Why We Have Relationships

Maybe that's not quite true, but you do see quite a number of people who are together and you have no idea how their dynamic works for them. 

I used to know this girl who went through life hating on just about everything. She was a pretty redhead with curls, well-liked, and even quite popular amongst her peers; but if you caught her in private she would share with you the most vile gossip, and let her contempt flow. Even as a third year university student going through my own emotional chaos on campus, I found it a bit much how she would dissect the foibles of the people around her. It was merciless and two-faced, and in part hid a deep anguish.  

Anyway, it turned out she had a very troubled upbringing up in a provincial centre and had problems adjusting to Sydney. Her mother had told her to aim high, while her estranged father had told her she wouldn't ever amount to anything. Deep underneath all the eviscerating critique was this general sense of dissonance with dissatisfaction and annoyance at life together with a singular wish to tear everything down. She was bitter but funny, or perhaps she was just funny because she was so bitter.  As a friend, she was a mean teaser and prankster. 

The thing is we hung out because we were both miserable. I was kind of used to it - it as in being miserable, so I hardly noticed the depth of her misery. I'd had a run of girlfriends who had a way of making me feel miserable, so I thought it was normal. Misery had become second nature to me. Some would say it was my first nature. And the one thing through all that which has stuck with me to this day is that miserable people can be very funny but they have a way of making everyday life seem really trying. 

It's not like everyday life should be trying as a university student, but that's the nature of misery - it inflicts a sense of grave dissatisfaction on those around the miserable. It was a strained friendship though a bizarre round of varsity parties and drinks. We talked, she held court, we laughed, she got drunk and nasty - but we'd do it all again within days. Eventually at the end of Trinity semester in her second year, she abruptly quit university and went home to her provincial town without an explanation. 

Just once - about a month after her sudden departure - she sent an ironic postcard from her home town. It read "everywhere I go, there's me. And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's me." 

There was no return address. 

Come Join The Fun!