Sometimes I hate these people...
I'm a teenage girl, and have been struggling with a serious health condition since birth. Genetic disorder.
I also have a mood disorder, and have been through many personal traumas in life that caused severe depression for me a few years back.
I am everyone's crying shoulder. Everyone's rock. My friends rely on me for support, guidance, and kind words. I give them all of it.
But sometimes I hate it.
I love my friends and would not take back a single kind word I have ever said to them. But when I'm struggling in the hospital, coughing and vomiting blood, spiking high fevers, so sleep deprived that I have trouble recognizing my own reflection, and being forced to tolerate the excruciating pain of antibiotics being fed into a peripheral IV in my arm every few hours, wondering if I'm going to die...
It's times like those that make it very, very difficult to appreciate someone else's frustration with the fact that their first day of school is coming up.
Or a classmate's status on facebook about how absolutely horrible life is because their boyfriend broke up with them, and that nothing means anything to them anymore.
And while I'm fortunate enough to be able to enjoy a somewhat normal life most of the time (most acquaintances don't even realize that I'm sick upon first meeting me), what about the kids who I see in the hospital that don't have a chance at all? What about the kids with cancer, or the ones who are too sick to do anything at all? The ones who are just...dying, and can't do anything about it?
So when I meet someone who is a chronic complainer but has a pretty good life, all things considered; or hear about all these drug addicts who were perfectly healthy to begin with, but are now s******* up their lives and bodies, and they get all this recognition--
I can't feel bad for these people. Maybe I should, sometimes. Maybe it sounds intolerant of me to say that I don't. But I don't.
I feel bad for the people who want life and can't have it.
Not for the people who have it, but it's just not good enough.
To be clear, I am usually a very happy person. I almost never complain. I do feel very fortunate with my lot in life. There's a lot that I have that others don't, and I am thankful for it.
But this still gets to me.
I hate that there is so much that so many people take for granted, and then they throw it on the ground, stomp on it and demand more. I'm just happy that I'm alive.