It is for me. How do I cope? Thanks for asking. I’m dealing with my existential angst by watching Chinese historical rom /com /drom TV series, supposedly to appreciate the costumes (I used to be in the costume biz) but really to lose myself in other peoples’ stories so I don’t have to think about my own.
I get so invested in these stories, I dream about them at night. I obsess about the characters (what will happen to the lovers, will they finally get together? Will the hero win the battle or will he get sliced and diced? Will have to wait until the last five minutes of the final episode to watch the evil villain finally get their comeuppance?). I swoon over the gorgeousness and talent of the actors. I slobber at the sight of cooks designing elaborate dishes that not only look amazing and taste great, but also heal every malady you can think of. Of course, quite often the culinary creations are poisoned, but sometimes you have to kill off someone to keep the plot going. Doesn’t make me not want to eat Chinese food.
My friend frequently reminds me that these characters are not my friends. I don’t believe her. These screen friends keep me from descending into the fires of rage and the pits of despair.
In between episodes, when I need a laugh break, I resort to SNL comedy. All I have to do is remember the scene of Melissa McCarthy impersonating Sean Spicer and driving the lectern around the press briefing room, crashing into chairs, people, and eventually through a wall. Or Amy Poehler and Tina Fey channeling Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin (“I can see Russia from my house!”). Or Bill Hader doing Stefon. Fred Armisen and Kristen Wiig doing Garth and Kat. So many other comedy sketches, too many to name . . . I don’t even have to watch them to bust out laughing.
If I’m feeling really down, my go-to remedy is watching YouTube videos posted by a Japanese content creator. He’s a chubby guy who recreates high fashion runway designs and struts like a super model in the dusty courtyard in front of his house. First he shows a few seconds of real footage of skeletal models in sculptural monstrosities pounding or slinking or dancing along the runway to relentless disco music. Then he shows his attempt to recreate the outfit using whatever he has on hand, usually household appliances, garbage bags, and duct tape. To the same music, he imitates the model’s walk (often in high heels). He aims for verisimilitude, which sometimes requires incorporating his wife into the costume. Their little dog runs around his ankles. It’s hands-down the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I usually have to pause the video part way through to breathe, I’m laughing so hard.
Just writing about this guy makes me laugh, which is the whole point. It’s hard to feel anger and despair when I’m laughing.