Cynical Optimism

I’m not surprised the "Outright Ranting" post trigger some questions and feedback, which can be summed up almost universally as "why?!"
I’ll explain that willingly, in part because I knew after writing it, and when posting it a couple days later, that it was not my strongest post. Yes, it "meandered all over the place" and lacked focus. It demonstrated some of the simmering anger, and not quite in humorous ways. It was the product of a bad morning of a bad week in a month that proved stressful. There were problems that just happen in August, and while never happy about such things, I can cope with them OK. The true stress entered into things–and almost everything–from other people, not from the generalized circumstances. Whether flesh and blood events or sudden increased difficulty with electronic things posed by developers I’ll never meet, most people involved in most situations seemed to stand up and contribute to the problem instead of the solution. These precise stresses added to more generalized stresses including another decrease in vision and anxieties trigger by the general turmoil in society that political seasons always seem to highlight.
Basically, there’s been ton of crap coming from every direction and a heightened feeling of loss for things I used to be able to do and enjoy. All this contributes to writing such a diatribe. I’ve written things like that before, but seldom post or attempt to publish them. So why did I publish this one, without editing out digressions and diversions?
The first is the minor answer, and, I admit with some shame, pseudo-commercial. The post that strayed far from diabetes, blindness and Charcot foot has a lot of terms that will lead potential new readers here via search engines. This is not so impossible. Recent Google searches that have led people to this electronic space include "+doctor +dumb +ass" and "getting old doesn’t mean you have to get crotchety."
In part because I get so many compliments about how I’ve been handling the losses and disabilities of the past few years that I sometimes feel like a fraud. I truly am handling things well, but some people have this thought that the handling is effortless. The truth is anything but.
I basically am the most optimistic cynic that most people could ever meet. I concentrate on the positive and on what I can do rather than all the things I cannot do well or at all. This takes more effort than most people see. My roommate sees most of the truth, because trying to hide those things even when home would be more than I can shoulder. It can be hard for him to deal with; I can be hard for him to deal with. That cynical optimism tells me I don’t deserve such a loyal friend.
Here this post could reach the place I want no post, or even writing that would remain completely private, to ever go: into the realm o self pitying drivel. I mentioned in a recent post the forthcoming publication of a blindness story "Through Rose-Colored Lenses." I’ve read most of the stories they have published since the time they accepted "Smokestacks" in 2010. I have found most of the stories they publish to be in the self pitying drivel mold. "Lenses" is a comedy. I need to laugh, and can do so at myself. I need to laugh t myself. My sense of humor, admittedly something often mean and offensive in political incorrectness, carries me through. The principle is the same as that crazy theory I postulated in the "offensive" post that suppressing the darkness of our social anger will only boil the anger to rage. I am neither sexist nor racist, although I’ve been accused by many of both and more, based on my sense of humor. As I have gotten older and more worldly, society has increased the list of sacred cows. I try to make the list into a menu.