"I get knocked down, but I get up again"

I was going to say everyone who’s ridiculously wealthy is probably an asshole – but I have to allow for exceptions to the rule. Not ALL ridiculously rich (I’m talking BILLIONS here) people are awful – I don’t want to come across as “classist”. Some wealthy people are probably really great. For instance, I don’t know him, but Richard Branson looks like he’d be fun to hang out with. Ricky Gervais is rolling in money at the moment and he’s someone I’d definitely want to hang with. There are probably a few really wealthy people who are genuinely nice human beings too – I’m just saying it’s going to be rare.

I’m blogging today because I said something in a Psychiatrist appointment that shocked both the psych and I. I left that appointment feeling oddly proud of myself.

We were talking about my brother. I’ve had to have a lot of counselling in my recovery from the grenades my brother has launched into my heart, so it’s a fairly usual topic.

At the time (this was last October), Jay had flown Mom in against my wishes (I swear to God, when it comes to me, Jay has selective hearing) and had announced in our family facebook chat that Mom was going to live with Alun and I.

He didn’t ask. He just announced it.

This is absolutely typical for our family, this is how we work. Jay commands and we all obey. Instantly or incur his wrath.

I was telling Dr C that I didn’t want Mom moving into our tiny cottage. I was highly anxious about the lack of space and was also distressed about having Dad’s urn in the house when I still hadn’t wrapped my mind around Dad dying yet. Because Dad died overseas during Covid, there was no funeral. No goodbye. No closure. Dad died in hospital the day he was supposed to be discharged. Because of Covid, the hospital demanded (huh. this must be a Filipino thing my brother inherited, no?) that my Dad be cremated within hours of his death.

Across the world in Australia, I listened to Mom’s panicked pleas to “send money, quickly” in utter dismay.

Dad isn’t even cold yet and someone wants to turn him into ashes?

Are you fucking kidding me?

But the demands were placed, Mom was beyond devastated and it was my job – as it has always been – to fix whatever the situation is – and bring peace and calm as quickly as possible.

Alun and I sent the money.

Mom was appeased.

Dad was burnt to a crisp.

There was no funeral. No memorial. No service to honour my Dad or to reconcile with his loss. He was there one minute and gone the next and everyone just…moved forward as best they could.

I didn’t get the goodbye I desperately needed in order to heal. I think this is a large reason why I’ve been hospitalized twice since Dad died. I don’t know how to cope with it because we haven’t been afforded the traditional means of dealing with his loss.

Back to the psych appointment:

Dr C was asking if it would burden Jay to have Mom at his house.

I said Jay had a mansion and Mom would probably have her own wing in it, complete with a marble bathroom with tiles from Italy or something.

Dr C laughed and said “There you have it. Mom is going to live with Jay.”

Despite my severe depression, Dr C’s laugh and immediate problem-solving made me smile.

He asked how Jay had become so wealthy.

It was my answer that I want to write about today.

I said something like “Probably by stabbing people in the back”

Dr C raised his eyebrows “Oh? tell me more” and he got his notebook out.

I never know if it’s a good or bad sign when the notebook comes out.

“You don’t get to that level of wealth by being a nice person” I continued “…and the people in the upper echelons of wealth? They didn’t get there by being good people. They got there by being manipulative, power-hungry, selfish, cunning, mean bastards”.

When I said that, it seemed like all the air went out of the room.

Dr C’s head shot up.

His eyes were wide. He looked as if I’d got up and violently kicked a chair at him.

Mentally, I realised that he didn’t know it, but I’d worked for the WA Police a few months back in their invoicing team and a majority of the invoices I processed were for Doctor C’s psychology treatments of Policemen/women. This guy was charging $1000.00 A SESSION. My ‘sessions’ with Dr C go for a maximum of 20 minutes. When you multiply that session cost by an 8-hour day and then by 7 for the week and 52 for the year…the total (don’t ask, I can’t math) is stunning. Add onto that Doctor C’s many psych appointments with patients in and out of the FOUR hospitals he works in…and you have someone making TENS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS PER DAY.

Yes, I said DAY. not week or month. DAY.

When I mentioned ridiculous wealth and that assholes go with it, I think Dr C thought I was taking a pot-shot at him.

I felt bad that he felt bad (he’s a nice guy – quietly spoken and doesn’t dress in anything ‘flash’. He doesn’t draw attention to himself and if I’d seen him on the street and not known he was worth literally tens of MILLIONS, I would have guessed he was a Geography teacher. They are not worth millions) so I cleared my throat and repeated that I thought that’s the path my brother was on and that I wasn’t pointing fingers at anyone else.

Dr C calmed right down and sat back in his chair.

We talked about a change in my meds (he suddenly wanted to double them, go figure) and I left and went back to my room.

But my opinion still stands.

I think as “nice” as Oprah looks – she probably did some nasty, dodgy deals and had some secret handshakes and shakedowns to get to where she is now. I think she was valued as being richer than the QUEEN (when she was alive) at one point there. That’s some kind of money. To be fair, Oprah is probably more an exception to the rule than a firm example of being a rich, uncaring person. She’s contributed MILLIONS to Scholarships, sports funds and gives away SO MUCH to her audience and to people in lower socio-economic situations around America.

I really like that about her.

I think Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerburg are more the people I mean. They both got to their wealth by stealing from their friends – in Mark Z’s case; from his best friend. They both climbed that ladder to success by pulling other people off it and probably didn’t even turn to look as that person plummeted to the ground. Neither of them are known to be nice people. I haven’t been made aware of any humanitarian work either of them – or the companies they run – have done. My opinion (and again, I could be wrong) is that if either Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerburg had stayed loyal to their friends; neither of them would be the billionaires they became.

Kim Kardashian and Kanye West aren’t known for their kindness to others. Again, I haven’t Googled it, so I’m mostly assuming here – but I don’t think either of them have benefitted the poorer communities around them. I don’t think they’ve helped anyone in 3rd world countries (can we still say that? Is that offensive now? I can’t keep up. I hope it’s not offensive). I don’t think they’ve sent financial aid to any of the places in America that were destroyed by cyclones, flooding or fire. But look at their lives!!! SO RICH. OMG. I haven’t heard of Will Smith (as much as I really like his shows and music) contributing to charities or setting up foundations for the less fortunate, I just haven’t. Does anyone know if Elon Musk has given money to build schools, hospitals or homes for the elderly, incredible people with disabilities who struggle to find housing – or the homeless? Because I haven’t – and I won’t be holding my breath on that one.

I don’t have it in me to do anything unkind to anyone so when it comes to climbing that ladder of riches, I don’t think I’ll get past the first few rungs. I don’t have the drive it takes to make it as a business entrepreneur. I think I could easily learn the acumen, I just don’t have that ‘eat or be eaten’ mentality.

My friend’s brother joined my brother’s super “flash” (Australian for very fancy) Real Estate company. He lasted 3 months. With every month he was there, Kirsten and I could see Jayden hollowing out. He lost a tonne of weight from stressing, not eating and staying up all hours to keep up with the rest of the guys on the team. He was mercilessly bullied. He had clients stolen from him. He had commission taken from him in deals he knew nothing about. When Jayden finally quit, he shook his head and with tears streaming down his cheeks, he said “That place is a shark tank. I couldn’t survive.”

Yet my brother is thriving and has been named “Salesman of the year” for 4 years running. I know because Mom posts about his awards on her facebook. He loves where he works. What does that say about him?

I know one thing for sure –that will never be me accepting the award for “Salesperson of the Year”. I hate sales. I hate making people buy something they probably don’t need and can’t afford. I hate the pressure to MAKE THAT MONEY no matter what. Yuck. I won’t “upsell” to customers because when they slide a product across the counter to be scanned by me – they chose JUST THAT FUCKING PRODUCT. I don’t “need” to tell them that socks or books or bags are “also on special”, I need to leave them the fuck alone and let them pay for things in peace.

So no, I won’t own a Porche (Jay loves it) or a “Cartier timepiece” (I use my phone – who wears a watch anymore, anyway?) one day. An Architect won’t design my home specifically for me and I won’t win awards for “Salesman of the year” in an urban “survival of the fittest”. I’ll be too busy asking the cleaner how her daughter’s Uni degree is going, or holding the door open for someone lovely in the wheelchair. I’ll be donating to all my friend’s charities and I’ll continue to have monthly direct debits to “save the children”, “OM international” (A Christian organisation that helps children in poorer countries access education and the school uniforms and books they need) and “Lifeline WA”. It might not be changing the world, but I’m doing my part to contribute to society.

Basically, I think I’ll stick to just being myself. My non-rich self. I’ll stick to being honest. Loving. Kind. Supportive. I’ll genuinely try to help those I work with. I’ll back my friends – not steal from them.

I like that about myself.

It’s not often I say that.

I’m proud to be at the lower end of middle class. I love our tiny yellow cottage and how comforting and welcoming it is to those we love.

I won’t own my own island like Richard Branson or have my own fleet of planes. I won’t be able to shoot things up into space like old mate Musk…but I know I’m loved. I have an incredible husband and the world’s best people as my friends.

I have my health (God willing it doesn’t change), I love my job, I don’t yearn for a castle to live in and Gucci luggage to stuff into my Ferrari when we go on holidays to the south of France, and you know what? I’m really happy about that.

I’m really happy in general, actually.

I thank God for that.