Oh, My Gash II: Cut up Carpels

It never fails.  Any time I feel really down about something, I’ll inevitably see someone far worse off than I am who actually has a better attitude than I do.  Some would say that’s inspiring but I find it annoying.  I was watching Mystery Diagnosis, an amazing show, and this old lady developed some kind of disease that left her unable to use her hands.  She was an artist and painting was her life so the immobility was obviously devastating.  It also affected her speech and now she talks with a slur that makes it hard to understand what she’s saying.  Although they found and corrected her problem, the damage that was done was irreversible.  Yet, at the end of her segment, she slurred out, “I’m very fortunate.  I have it better than a lot of people.”

Maybe so.  But, she’ll never paint again.  That can’t not hurt.  Perhaps she has already dealt with that and is seeing the bigger picture.  Or perhaps she’s putting on a brave face for the camera. 

The next segment was about a girl who developed some abnormality shortly after birth, which left her permanently disabled as well.  Once again, at the end of her segment, in her barely decipherable speak, said, “I’m very happy.  A lot of people are worse off than I am.”

Good for those people.

As for me, when I see stuff like that, it just makes me feel way worse about myself.  Not only am I going through whatever crap the universe has decided to hand to me at the time but I have to listen to people who have it way worse than I do talk about how lucky and happy they are.  Makes me feel like a real a-hole.  And I suppose even thinking like this also shows how selfish I am.  Looking at those poor people, I immediately resort to thinking about myself and my own problems.  What a schmuck, right?   

But then I remember my whole paper cut concept and I feel a bit better.  Sure, someone will always have it worse than us but does that mean we can’t complain?  Does that mean we can’t express frustration?  Must we always censor ourselves and suppress our feelings just because we aren’t starving on the streets?  It feels like I’m walking this fine line between trying to appreciate what I have while lamenting what I don’t. It’s just that when I see people worse off than I am it really makes me feel bad for complaining, as if God or the universe or whatever is reprimanding me for being so petty.  And I’m tired of feeling guilty for complaining that I can’t find a good job or anyone to call a friend.  When you think about the potentially devastating impact of these things, they don't seem that petty.  Without a job I probably will end up starving on the streets and the lack of a good, solid friendship in my life has left me emotionally dead.  So, maybe I don’t have it that great after all.

I honestly don't know who I am anymore.  There's a part of me that wants to lash out but that's just not me, not the person I used to be.  And is that because I have suppressed that part of myself all this time or am I just now being tempted to bring out my temper?  Am I strong enough to resist or am I just weak enough, just hurt enough, to give in to the grief and unleash my bitterness on everyone?  Then again, who am I to say I deserve to be a terrible person?  I'm quite aware that in the grand scheme of things, I have it very good and a lot of people do not but does that cancel out my own hurt?  Should I be required to rescind my own rage just because I'm not handicapped or intellectually disabled?  Should I ignore my own pain, bottle it up inside because I don't have the right to be angered by the outcomes of my life?  I just can't do that.

You have to know that I can't help the way I feel.  I can try to lead my emotions in a certain directions but at the end of the day, I'm going to feel how I feel and I have no control over that.  And I'm an expressive person.  It's the reason why I got into art when I was young.  It's the reason why I write now.  To not be angry or sad over things, to start burying my feelings like I did when I was younger, would kill me now.  I hid myself for far too long and I'm still dealing with the consequences of that choice.  I can't go back there, can't keep it all inside and more than anything, I can't feel guilty for feeling the way I do.  I know I keep saying that but I'll probably keep feeling guilty anyway.  I mean, I openly acknowledge the good along with the bad.  I would never keep it a secret that I've had a decent home life and that I've never struggled for food or clothing.  I've always lived comfortably, yes.  But I'm piss poor in other aspects of my life such as relationships and experience.  Especially in love.  Not just romantic love but love in any form.  I've been denied affection, denied human interaction and that can have a bigger and longer lasting impact than just being fat or having a crappy job.

I go back to thinking about those people on Mystery Diagnosis.  Maybe the reason why can can smile their crooked smiles is because they have a support system to back them up, to look after them and love them.  'Cause isn't love what it's all supposed to be about?  They've found their happiness through connections, through friends and family.  Maybe they don't need to worry about the small things I regret because those things are inconsequential when you have something bigger in your prescence, something more palatable.  Something I can no longer taste.