I could complain about how things haven’t worked out very well and aren’t currently where I want them to be.
I could keep berating myself for not breaking away from the supposedly “helpful and caring” people who, very effectively, reinforced the idea that I would never be “good enough.” That, despite my best intentions, I would always be wrong simply because I was different and also a nobody.
I could gripe about my assertive, extroverted boyfriend’s offhanded comments, and tell him that after years of emotional torture, his comments are hurtful, and as a matter of fact, ABSOLUTELY NOT FUNNY.
I could write a whole book on my family’s disapproval of all my incredibly brief, unsuccessful attempts to stand up to powerful, “omniscient” authority figures.
I could criticize the vast majority of people who have reinforced the entirely false concept of all-encompassing forgiveness.
I could constantly criticize myself for typing up this crummy list.
I could give up.
I could be more grateful.
I could be less critical and judgmental.
I could stop bemoaning the lack of acceptance I receive and start forming my own self-acceptance.
I could ignore my experiences and pretend they have no current relevance.
I could keep going and ascribe to the philosophy I have taken up when I am in the midst of struggling: “ I do what is necessary to survive.”
The answer I usually get to that statement is: “Survival is not living.”
The question is: “When does surviving end and living start?”
Due to my current circumstances, I am in a position where survival needs to be enough(It’s difficult).
When I make it to a position where I can start living instead of just surviving, I can honestly say that I probably won’t even know where to start, but it will be a new, and hopefully, rather enjoyable experience.
Thanks for reading… It’s probably not that great, but I felt like writing(well, technically) typing it up.