A couple of years ago, my son became entranced with “suckish,” a term coined by him and other tweens. He’s moved on by now, as kids will, but suckish has remained with me as the perfect phrase for circumstances that are challenging and painful, but not epically tragic.
Suckish = having someone without insurance back into your car. Having to work around an illness, disability, or handicap. Taking a pay cut. Finding out your spouse is having an affair—or finding yourself having one. Breaking your foot just before the marathon.
I find “stuckish” an equally useful descriptor. Stuckish is just what it sounds like. Working a job you hate for the paycheck you need. Sticking with friendships, relationships, or partnerships that no longer serve you. Stuck in the pain of your circumstances and unable to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Clutter, binge eating, compulsive shopping, destructive behavior patterns. Loneliness, disconnection, lack of purpose or clarity.
And when you’ve got stuckish and suckish together on the same dance floor? That’s a true tango of frustration, anger, hopelessness, even despair.