I do it too. I write about how shattered I am and how I still get up the next day. I look okay on the surface but in the safe space of my room and with my stuffed penguin, I'm just a totally wrecked soul. Yada yada.
It's funny because we never really talk about damaged objects with this sort of surreptious pride. People don't like second hand objects.
I think there's a lot of humblebrag in talking about how no matter what we get up and go to work the next day. Culture of overwork and all that, plus the brainwash of thinking work is what makes us upstanding citizens. I don't want to get into it, I'm avoiding the subject, but you get the picture.
But maybe getting up the next day is just a really hard thing to do for a lot of us. And yet millions of people do it, and they do it day after day. So there's also a component of wonder, maybe, like "how the hell am I doing this" and how will I do it again tomorrow? And maybe it's just a pat on the back.
But I wonder what it is like to humblebrag about how whole we are, and if it is possible to do so without being a bit delusional. Is it possible grow the missing limb? Fill out with sound the overlarge and rather empty human soul?
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