You ask yourself “Why me?” and in so doing you waste two words and have me wasting sixteen.
Imagine history as a marble tracing a trajectory on a slightly tilted plane, flat although somewhat dented. Mostly it runs its course, erratically but without significant deviations in speed nor in direction. Nevertheless, every once in a while it hits a bump or gets stuck in a bigger depression. For a short time then history is on a roller coaster ride or, as presently, stuck for a long time in a seemingly stable condition.
The marble wants to continue its descent as the wasp wants to continue its flight across the glass of the window.
It can’t; not without help.