I do it, too. Someone recently shared with me that their bike got stolen, and she followed it up with, "Life sucks for me right now." My first, instinctive response was to say, "At least you're not losing your home." But what good would that do her? Life does suck for her - maybe there's more going wrong than just the bike, she didn't share, but even if it is just a stolen bike, that still sucks. If shitty situations can be quantified, then yes, losing one's house would be worse than losing one's bike, all else being equal, and I 'd have more right to complain. At the same time, me losing my house is nothing compared to someone losing their life. IF shit can be quantified. I don't think it can.
Sometimes people share some nugget like, God will only give you what you can handle. I'm sorry, I don't mean to rain on God (or Gods, Goddesses, etc), but no. People get way more than they can handle ALL THE FUCKING TIME. That's why there's so many people killing themselves, killing each other, stealing from each other, and so on and so forth. Because they got broken and couldn't take what was handed to them. (Disclaimer: I've attempted suicide more times than I can count, though all that was about 20 years ago; that being said, it probably does point to me having a higher propensity to complain about my life, so bear with me). I know what it feels like to not be able to handle what's been given (or, at least, to not feel like I can; obviously, somehow or other, I have actually handled my shit and gotten to my current predicament). I've been there over and over and over. Even after all my various suicide attempts, I still get overwhelmed by it all, this heavy weight of unbearableness sitting on my chest like a fucking elephant and making it so I can barely move. Luckily, I now have two absolutely amazing and particularly stubborn children who convince me that moving is worthwhile (or, it's at least better than them continuously screaming at me to play with them or make them food or take them to the park) and I keep going because doing otherwise would pass that weight onto them.
Sometimes people share some nugget like, God will only give you what you can handle. I'm sorry, I don't mean to rain on God (or Gods, Goddesses, etc), but no. People get way more than they can handle ALL THE FUCKING TIME. That's why there's so many people killing themselves, killing each other, stealing from each other, and so on and so forth. Because they got broken and couldn't take what was handed to them. (Disclaimer: I've attempted suicide more times than I can count, though all that was about 20 years ago; that being said, it probably does point to me having a higher propensity to complain about my life, so bear with me). I know what it feels like to not be able to handle what's been given (or, at least, to not feel like I can; obviously, somehow or other, I have actually handled my shit and gotten to my current predicament). I've been there over and over and over. Even after all my various suicide attempts, I still get overwhelmed by it all, this heavy weight of unbearableness sitting on my chest like a fucking elephant and making it so I can barely move. Luckily, I now have two absolutely amazing and particularly stubborn children who convince me that moving is worthwhile (or, it's at least better than them continuously screaming at me to play with them or make them food or take them to the park) and I keep going because doing otherwise would pass that weight onto them.
Anyway, back to the concept that all shit stinks. One person's pile might be bigger than the next; and if we were to compare side-by-side, maybe there's this one person who just has it the absolute worst of everyone. Let's call him Bob. Bob's life is complete shit, no one has it worse than Bob. So if we can quantify, then the only person who gets to complain is Bob, because his shit pile is the biggest, until Bob dies. When Bob dies, now Jerry gets to complain because his pile is now the biggest. If anyone else tries to complain, we'll remind them that Jerry's life is the worst and so only Jerry can complain. This sounds pretty ridiculous, right? Because even if Jerry has the biggest, stinkiest pile of shit in his life, other people also have shit and that shit still stinks. We can't compare our shit piles because all of our circumstances are different. Lucy over there might have a perfect job, perfect husband, perfect children, a wonderful house, and then her mom dies and most people would feel empathy toward her because shit, losing your mom sucks (or, at least, I can imagine that it does, because I am unbelievably lucky to still have my amazing and supportive mom). Mary might also have just lost her mom, but she's also divorced and her kids hate her. Yes, Mary's life is quite possibly harder than Lucy's, IF we can quantify the two.
Another commonly shared nugget is to focus on what's good in your life and somehow that will get you through. At this stage of my life, that does actually get me through the shit. My kids, my husband, my cats, my parents, my husband's job, friends - all this is stuff going right. Yay for me. But at other times of my life, I couldn't see the good. Specifically all those times 20+ years ago. All the good in my life wasn't enough - I had an amazing best friend, I had supportive, loving parents, I had cats, I had a stable home, easy access to food and a place to play and tons of books to read. But still, all the bad overwhelmed me and I repeatedly tried to make it all go away. There was one time - the worst time - where I chose to cut open my wrist with scissors rather than be separated from my cats again. That sounds pretty fucking ridiculous, right? I mean, if I'd succeeded, I'd never see them again. But the overwhelming fear of being separated from them was too much to bear. Obviously, plenty of people had it worse. No food, no home, no love. I had all that so what right did I have to complain? I don't know if I had the right then, or if I have the right now, or if I'll ever have the right. I don't even know what that means, to be honest. Is it a human right to be able to complain? I don't know. It does seem to be a remarkably human condition, to bemoan our quantity of lemons (and a cat thing. Cats definitely have the art of complaining down. Possibly even better than us). And yes, it's great to be able to see those positives, to turn the lemons to lemonade. I think it's also fairly important to recognize that lemons are still sour, and no amount of juicing them will make them sweet if you don't have sugar. Or in simpler terms, shit still stinks no matter how big the pile.
