Tag: words

addleworth – adj. unable to settle the question of whether you’re doing okay in life; feeling torn between conflicting value systems and moveable goalposts, which makes you long for someone to come along and score your progress in discrete and measurable units – points, dollars, friends, followers, or a grade point average – which may not clear up where you’re going, but would at least reassure you that you’re one step closer to getting there.

This is certainly something I’ve felt, often with my financial future and career. I feel this when looking at my salary or my savings and wondering if I’m doing okay compared to others. Often, I’ve compared myself to others and tried to establish a comparative metric that helps me determine if I’m doing well.

This used to be dollars, and for the most part, I’ve given up on this. Once in awhile I look at someone and think “could I be like them” or “should I try to do what they do” to achieve something similar, but I quickly look at my self of happiness, stress, and other ephemeral metrics to realize I have a great life and shouldn’t bother measuring whatever I’m observing.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

sayfish – n. a sincere emotion that seems to wither into mush as soon as you try to put it into words – like reeling in a shimmering beast from the deep only to watch it wriggle limply on the line, which makes you want to leave it down there, languishing unexpressed, where it’ll grow dark and slender and weird, with ghostly blue eyes and long translucent teeth.

That is an excellent description in a definition. A thing shimmering into mush as you look at it. I’m sure some movie has a great visual of this, but I think about something fading and dissolving as I focus on it.

I think I’ve sometimes had this emotion when I start to get annoyed or angry at someone (or a situation). As I start to process the emotion, it fades and disappears as I realize I’m being irrational.

Or more likely, I’m just hungry and over-reacting.

I don’t usually think it lingers or grows, but maybe I’m just repressing things. Who knows. Still a great definition.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

desanté – n. the brooding delirium of being sick, which makes time slow to a trickly and turns even the most pathetic of tasks into monumental struggles, until the act of lifting your head from the pillow feels like trying to climb a mountain, wondering if you’ll every find your way back again, or even catch your breath.

I had desanté when I caught COVID the first time. I struggled with energy, feeling incredibly listless and tired. At times I was fine, but at others, I collapsed into bed, not even wanting to lift my head to watch TV.

I also felt like this when I had the flu in 2005 or 2006. A miserable couple of days where I didn’t want to do anything by lay in bed, not read, not watch anything, just lay, suffer, and attempt to sleep.

However, most of the time I just keep going through colds, through strep, through various other illnesses. I struggle to sit still.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

insoucism – n. the inability to decide how much sympathy your situation really deserves, knowing that so many people have it far worse and others far better, that some people would need years of therapy to overcome what you have, while others would barely think to mention it in their diary that day.

I really struggle to think I deserve sympathy for the challenges I might face in life. I know that I am very lucky and blessed in life, without many of the struggles that people who have less than I experience. I know that most of the time I have #firstworldproblems, which aren’t really problems, but annoyances.

I needed ankle surgery a few years ago, but really, it wasn’t critical. I could walk, I could bike, I could do yoga inside and snowboard in the winter. I was in some pain, but it wasn’t really a problem that deserves much sympathy.

I ate and drank way tooooooo much during the pandemic. Changing those habits was a challenge, but it wasn’t something that I think needs sympathy.

I have some tough travel schedules at times. I’m returning from Kansas City this week, and in the last 5 weeks, I’ve been home for 6 nights. Some of that is vacation with my wife, but a lot of work and travel. I’ve covered easily 30,000 miles in that time. However, it’s not all a burden, and it’s my choice.

Some people might think that’s an easy life. Some might think this is overwhelming. I think on balance, I don’t have a lot of insourcism because I know that most of my situations don’t deserve sympathy.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows