From riches to rags - Life as the nouveau poor
I just outgrew him, really. When I was thrust into being a full-time mom, four years ago, and was frightened and broke, he was my lifeline.
I religiously listened every day, and duly absorbed all his callers’ pain, and cried where appropriate. I took comfort from feeling that I was a truly compassionate member of society and was all for the underdog. It was when I began shouting, at the radio, phrases like ‘get over it’ and ‘move on’, that I realised that I was no longer absorbing people’s woes and had become practical in my thinking. It was time to get off my ass and fight the big elephant in the room. I realised I was healing quite nicely. I also realised that we are all the same, and even though Joe is a great advocate for social injustices, I wonder why we only sympathise with the underdog? Why do we judge and measure so much? We have all lost in this recession, the pensioner who has lost €30 in his weekly income, the civil servant whose pay cheque has been ruthlessly attacked, and the likes of me, self-employed, lost my business, income, status, self-esteem, and possibly my home, overnight. I didn’t live in a palatial house overlooking the harbour, didn’t have homes in Dublin, London and Florida, didn’t drive a Bentley or have my wine flown in from my favourite vineyard in the south of France. Enter Paul Carroll, who had all of the latter, and why not? He had built up an impressive property portfolio worth €40m and was living the dream.
