I know a lot of people with various infirmities and allergies.  Sometimes I watch one of them develop a new way that they are broken.  Everyone else gathers around, expressing regret or sorrow or whatever.  There are people out there who enjoy thinking of themselves as “broken.”  Do you know anyone who describes themselves as “crazy?”  Don’t lie.  You do.  You know tons of them.  You may be one yourself.  “Crazy” is a mental brokenness. 

This is not a condemnation of people.  It is a condemnation of that attitude. 

Being broken can buy you social capital.  Making someone else’s infirmity a part of the story of your struggle can buy you social capital.  Finding someone to blame for your problems can buy you social capital.

Fuck that. 

I have bad credit because I fucked up.  It wasn’t anyone else’s responsibility to make those payments.  I am questioning what I will do for work in the next five years, not because the world screwed me, but because I failed to plan.   It was my job to plan ahead, or not. 

That still sounds a little “woe is me,” right?  Well I told you that to tell you this: my failures belong to me, but so do my successes.  

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