grateful

You all know I like to complain.  I play the victim.  And I have a serious lack of empathy.  I seem cruel and unconcerned when it comes to people and it gets to the point where even Satan sits back and thinks, "Wow, that guy’s a douche bag."  I get on Open Diary and I vent and struggle with superficial things like losing my hair and deeper things like losing my religion and it can be a real downer a lot of the time because it’s just one complaint after another.  I get it.  I really do.

But I’m not always like that.  I don’t go around telling children Santa doesn’t exist.  I don’t attend weddings just so I can object to the vows and announce the rising divorce rates.  I don’t put flaming bags of dog crap on strangers’ doorsteps.  I’m actually kind and considerate of other people and their feelings.  My heart melts for animals.  I donate blood and give compliments.  I don’t always hate everyone all of the time.

People use public diaries for different purposes.  Some use it to socialize, share their writing, vent, etc.  I do it for all those reasons but mainly I use it as a form of therapy and to explore myself.  For me, writing has helped relieve some of the stress and anger and frustrations I’ve felt throughout the years.  Just getting it out of my head helps a lot.  And the fact that some people respond so positively helps too.  

Throughout the years, I’ve written about trying to figure out myself and figure out the world around me.  And as things have gotten harder for me, my writing has focused more on myself and my struggles.  It’s been more about venting rather than introspection.  Complaining.  Oozing a lot more venom than I ever thought I could produce.  And sometimes I even scare myself with how angry I feel.  

But as things have turned darker for me and I’ve expressed that darkness, I forget that people who read me are forming opinions of me based on my diary.  And these opinions are often skewed because people are only reading one side of me and it’s my fault, although I never intended to represent myself as anything other than who I am in the most honest way I know how.  And at this point in my life, I’m honestly angry.  But I’m not a complete monster.  I’m starting to see that I’ve just evolved from an idealist into a realist.  I was, for lack of a better phrase, a real goody-goody.  And now I’m seeing that such a personality isn’t as practical as I once thought.  It’s not impossible, just improbable for me.  I’m not a goody-goody anymore.  I’m not full of sunshine for everyone anymore.  I’m just a regular person.  Cool people amuse me.  Annoying people piss me off.  I don’t react to people any differently than anyone else does.  I’m just not afraid to speak the dark things others don’t want to face within themselves.

But what I’ve failed to mention, or at least express in this diary, is all the good in my life.  And in the few times I have to try to be fair and honest and create a balance between the good and the bad, I’ve always countered the good with more bad, which didn’t create much of a balance at all.  For example, I talk about how I’ve never had to struggle for food but then I talk about how overweight I am.  Or how my parents fill my wallet but not my heart.  Or how I have a roof over my head but no foundation of friendship.

The other day my mom suggested we go out to eat and I got pretty excited because food.  And I kept thinking about all the stuff I wanted to try and then I realized that I could get whatever I wanted on the menu.  I realized Mom would never even look at the prices and that would not factor into what I would choose.  

It was a small realization but it was enough.  I realized it’s always been that way.  Just like I mentioned earlier, I’ve never had to struggle to eat and neither has anyone else in my family.  And it’s something not incredibly profound.  It’s food.  Everyone has access to food right?  But no.  No they don’t.  It’s something we take for granted every day.  We don’t think about it because we have fast food restaurants and grocery stores and bakeries and vending machines and food is everywhere and plentiful.  But food is not so easily within reach for a lot of people and even more cannot afford access to the goods we indulge in and don’t think twice about.  But I do.  I never forget that I am fortunate to be able to eat every day.  It’s something that should be so simple and accessible but it’s not.  I often feel guilty for overindulging because I know somewhere someone else is struggling, that the three plates of food I just ate would last someone else a week or even longer.

I live in a comfortable house.  It belongs to my parents but they haven’t kicked me out and I’m grateful for that as well.  It’s clean and the fridge is always stocked and the sheets are always clean and the furniture always dusted.  I’m shielded from the rain and the cold and the heat.  Not everyone can say the same.  It’s another struggle for some.  Where are they going to live?  How are they going to pay the rent or mortgage?  Another night in a hotel room or in the car?  What about a house with no heat or air conditioning?  What about empty cupboards?  What about threadbare sheets on cold nights and no relief on sweltering summer days?

I have a job.  I hate the job so much but I get a paycheck that allows me to pay for my student loans and my pimple cream.  And sometimes I think I’d rather quit and rough it than work one more day but then I step back and I realize how dumb that is.  These days, my pleasure comes from movies and eating and reading and without my crappy job, I wouldn’t be able to afford movies and books and food.  So I am grateful for my job.  And people like me at my job.  I am respected.  I am liked.  I can make them laugh and it makes me feel good.  I listen to their problems and I’m nice to everyone and everyone is nice to me.

And speaking of my job, I’ve written entries about customers crapping their pants or flat out ignoring me when I greet them.  I will call out a person in a heartbeat.  But did you know I also give the good customers credit too?  No, you probably didn’t because I don’t write about them much.  Although 99% of the customers are missing teeth and manners, there are a few customers who are friendly and kind and considerate.  I’ve had people try to fold a shirt back after they’ve taken it out of a stack.  I’ve had customers change their mind about buying something and offer to put it back.  I’ve had customers donate more than what was asked for them when it comes to a charity. 

I always remember to acknowledge these people to the universe, to take a second to point out how cool they were.  And as you’ve read, it doesn’t even take a lot to impress me.  Little things like acknowledging me when I speak to you or offering to clean up your mess mean a lot to me.  You don’t have to shampoo the carpet or steam clean the shirt after looking at it.  It’s the little things that make a big difference when it comes to my opinion of someone.  And yes, there are worse jobs out there.  I acknowledge that.  I’m not struggling when it comes to my work.  It’s easy.

I’m educated.  I’m intelligent.  I did incredibly well in school and had the opportunity to go to college.  Even though I had to take out student loans to attend, I was talented enough to enroll and even good enough to get a scholarship.  Not a lot of people can say that.  No matter what I have said about my college experience, I am grateful I was able to go.  It was my fault I didn’t make the best of it and I acknowledge that.  At least I had a chance to make it good.  Some people don’t get that chance.  There’s so much talent out there, so many bright people who want to better themselves so they can better the world and they can’t go because of money or family or other issues.  But nothing got in my way and I was fortunate to be able to attend college and get a degree.

I hesitate to say this but I am good-looking.  Although I feel my body is slowly wearing down, I do not have any true physical handicaps.  I can see and smell and taste and hear and speak and feel.  My body is functional.  My brain is fully functional.  I am normal.  I’m an average guy.  Although I’m not fond of my shape, there are chubby chasers out there who wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of my love handles.  I might not be everyone’s taste, including my own taste, but there’s someone out there for everyone, right?  I’m losing my hair but not as much as some people.  I still have pimples but not as much as some people.  My teeth aren’t as irregular as some others.  I’m in no need of a walker or wheelchair.  I can walk and run and exercise.  I can lift a pencil to write or draw.  I can play video games and knead pizza dough.  I don’t suffer from any diseases that limit my mobility or interfere with my internal functions.  I am grateful for that.

I often look at other people and see what they have and wish I had it too, wish I was more like them.  I also often forget they might have what I want but sometimes they lack what I already have.  I can wish I was thin like someone else but what if they don’t have a good home life like I do?  Would I really trade in thinness for living in a hostile environment?  I don’t think I would.  I keep forgetting that no one has it perfect, that I focus on my wants instead of their needs.  There are aspects to everyone’s lives they wish could be better but that doesn’t mean the good stuff should be so easily pushed aside or forgotten.

Even when the credit is few and far between, I give it.  I send it up to the universe because it’s only fair.  It’s just the right thing to do.

I’m not writing this entry as an apology for my bad attitude or to defend myself or my diary, to try to win anyone over by saying, "Hey, look at me!  I’m a good person!  I can be thankful!"  I’m writing this just to clarify, to represent another aspect of my personality I don’t often share.  But really it doesn’t matter because people have their opinions and once they’ve been formed, it’s hard to change them.  No, most importantly, I’m writing this as a reminder to myself to go ahead and complain when I feel the need but to try to always keep it in context, to try to always be a little more grateful.

I’m just trying to write through my regrets.  I’m trying to express myself. I’m just as flawed as anyone else and I explore those flaws, dig in deep to discover the bad within myself, to acknowledge it so that I can hopefully one day correct it or at least learn to control it.  You’ve just happened to have caught me when I feel like expressing my irritation with the world and with people and myself.  We’ve all felt that way a time or two and this is my turn to be ticked off.  But that’s what diaries are for, right?  If anything, I have a place to put that anger.  I feel angry most of the time but I don’t take it out on anyone.  I purge it here and feel better because of it.  And although reading me might seem like a bummer to most people most of the time, it’s one of the healthiest ways I deal with my feelings.  I don’t hit people or take drugs to cope.  I just write.  I get it out of my system and put it in this diary and leave it there.  And I can’t apologize for that.

Side Note:  I’m working on a big-ass final entry that will basically cover my entire life thus far.  Yep, it’s going to be long (sorry) but in hopes of keeping you ensnared, I will be including a lot of embarrassing old photos of myself.  I thought about breaking it up into different entries but I feel it’s best to be read all the way through, or at least at your own pace instead of reading one part and then waiting for the others to be posted.  Like it is for everyone, my past is tied into my present which will affect the future and to fully grasp that, I think it’s best for it all to be laid out at once.  And I wanted to include the pictures so you can see how I’ve changed over the years and it will hopefully give my long-term readers more insight into my physical struggles with my weight and my looks.  You’ll really be able to see how much my weight has fluctuated and all the bad fashion and hair choices I’ve made to get to where I am now.  You will see me at my worst.  You’ll see diapers and acne and my fat rolls.  And yes, you’ll even see mullet.  Get ready.

I should probably hurry, though.  I’ve been gone from this site for a bit but when I try to check my bookmarks, the site is slow and I’m seeing all these entries pop up on the home page about similar problems and leaving OD all together.  So this feels like good timing to get this last little bit taken care of before I move on.  I’d better hurry though or there might not be a place to post my mullet! It’ll probably be up by the weekend.