Life happens. Death happens. Sometimes I look at this terrible predicament that I hold in my lap and think this must be one of the very worst things that could ever happen in the history of mankind. When I get my self-absorbed head out of my ass, I look at this 'stone' and realize that in the Western world that I am so very lucky to be living in, that, yes, this IS awful and pretty near the worst I can fathom.
But in other parts of the world, this is happening everyday. Widowhood. The loss of your loved one. Your other half. Your support. Your best friend. But they also have to deal with a the loss of financial support to an even greater extent than I do. But they may also be dealing with the loss of their children. War. Rape. Starvation. Disability. Homelessness.
It makes my life seem like a cake walk. To me, it most certainly is not. It is not easy. It's terrifying and lonely. But I can climb into my bed at night, safe and warm. I can keep my children's tummy full of nutritious food. I have a capable body and strong hands.
I can do it. I can pick my sorry ass up and walk forward. I have to.
I should not feel sorry for myself. I should not lower my head to where I can't see the sunrise in the morning. I should not take inventory of all the things that are going wrong in my life. I should rejoice in another day. Another opportunity to learn. Another moment to love the ones that are still around me.
Even with all this realization and knowledge of how bad others have it, I still sit here and cry and wince at the thoughts that engulf my mind. I am not enjoying my life. I am not feeling 'lucky' that I don't live in a third world country. I am a selfish and self-absorbed shit who just wants her best friend back. A 'poor me' suck hole.