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Frustration
Apr. 8th, 2005 07:14 pmSometimes I get really frustrated with myself. I have a great life. I live in one of the richest countries in the world, am financially solvent despite being currently unable to work, am cared for by the State because I live in a country that regards social welfare as an important part of society. I have a truly phenomenal number of friends, many of whom are totally amazing people who I feel privileged to know, and who take care of me far better than I deserve. I have a close and loving family, whom I adore.
In short, my life totally kicks arse. I'm not hyper rich or well connected, but I do live in comfort despite the limitations of my various health problems. If I ever tell you my life sucks - don't believe a word of it. There are many many people on this planet whose life is far worse than mine. And yet I'm still unhappy. How chronically ungrateful is that?
On one level I can claim that I don't choose to be unhappy. A lot of it is down to chemical imbalances in my brain, or if you want to look at it another way, an excessively realistic model of the world. Taking depression into account, I'm ceettain that depression is the "correct" rational response to life. No matter how things are, everything can be taken away in an instant by factors totally beyond our control. Being miserable is actually a prety darn sane response to this. It's just not as helpful as the seratonin based "well, yeah, but it's not as if I have anything better to do."
Then why aren't more humans depressed? There's a very simple reason. Rational it may be, but it's rubbish in terms of a survival trait. The thing very thing that makes humanity so resilliant is it's capacity to ignore the realities of life, and just get on with the living. We should be proud to be a bunch of delusional people - it's what keeps us going.
So how much am I the prisoner of my own rational processes? Why do I brood upon the essential random nature of life and how, in some limited senses, I've received a fairly nasty beating from the shitty end of the fate stick. I can spend as much time as I like feeling hurt, and guilty and angry. On a pragmatic level, however, there's simply no point in doing so.
These feelings gain me nothing. All they do is provide more fuel for my depression. Being bored and miserable isn't any more pleasant than being busy and miserable, so why not *do* something instead of moping about how terrible my life is? At least I'll have accomplished something, even if it's something pretty meaningless. In what way is this possibly worse than having accomplished nothing?
None of us can control our environment or our lives. But this is not the same as saying we have no power over them. We can't control the hand we're dealt, but we can damn well play the hand rather than folding and shrugging our shoulders in despair.
I don't think life is going to get better. I don't think the pain will stop. But I'm fed up of being scared of it. It's counterproductive behaviour, and I can decide to let go of it if I really want to. Which is not to say I've miraculously turned around, or that the rest is trivial, just that I'm admiting that I'm never going to feel happy and saying to myself "So what? Get the fuck over it". It's stupid to let that get in the way of living.
In short, my life totally kicks arse. I'm not hyper rich or well connected, but I do live in comfort despite the limitations of my various health problems. If I ever tell you my life sucks - don't believe a word of it. There are many many people on this planet whose life is far worse than mine. And yet I'm still unhappy. How chronically ungrateful is that?
On one level I can claim that I don't choose to be unhappy. A lot of it is down to chemical imbalances in my brain, or if you want to look at it another way, an excessively realistic model of the world. Taking depression into account, I'm ceettain that depression is the "correct" rational response to life. No matter how things are, everything can be taken away in an instant by factors totally beyond our control. Being miserable is actually a prety darn sane response to this. It's just not as helpful as the seratonin based "well, yeah, but it's not as if I have anything better to do."
Then why aren't more humans depressed? There's a very simple reason. Rational it may be, but it's rubbish in terms of a survival trait. The thing very thing that makes humanity so resilliant is it's capacity to ignore the realities of life, and just get on with the living. We should be proud to be a bunch of delusional people - it's what keeps us going.
So how much am I the prisoner of my own rational processes? Why do I brood upon the essential random nature of life and how, in some limited senses, I've received a fairly nasty beating from the shitty end of the fate stick. I can spend as much time as I like feeling hurt, and guilty and angry. On a pragmatic level, however, there's simply no point in doing so.
These feelings gain me nothing. All they do is provide more fuel for my depression. Being bored and miserable isn't any more pleasant than being busy and miserable, so why not *do* something instead of moping about how terrible my life is? At least I'll have accomplished something, even if it's something pretty meaningless. In what way is this possibly worse than having accomplished nothing?
None of us can control our environment or our lives. But this is not the same as saying we have no power over them. We can't control the hand we're dealt, but we can damn well play the hand rather than folding and shrugging our shoulders in despair.
I don't think life is going to get better. I don't think the pain will stop. But I'm fed up of being scared of it. It's counterproductive behaviour, and I can decide to let go of it if I really want to. Which is not to say I've miraculously turned around, or that the rest is trivial, just that I'm admiting that I'm never going to feel happy and saying to myself "So what? Get the fuck over it". It's stupid to let that get in the way of living.
