Perpetually feeling slighted, hurt, bruised, misunderstood, and under-appreciated.
Would I wake up feeling undervalued? By mid-morning would I feel bewildered because nobody has yet told me how great and special I am?
By noon, am I livid because I’m so put upon?
And when I have my mid-afternoon Starbucks, would I feel disgusted with the world—and everyone in it but me, except for my fellow whiners?
Dinner time arrives and I am feeling sooooooo blue.
But now, it’s getting late and I’m getting excited because I’m thinking about how to get even with all those who have wronged me! The burning question has become …
Who can I have punished because I am in pain???
I call/message/text my friends who enable my child-like victim thinking. I FaceTime my parents—those who created me who won’t speak truth to me because they wouldn’t want to sound “harsh,” damage my self-esteem, or inform me for the first time in my life that … I. AM. NOT. PERFECT.
And didn’t really deserve all those participation trophies.
The day is now almost done, but no one in my world has told me to hit the books or get back to work.
Or get my head on straight.
Meanwhile, my list of those who have egregiously wounded me with their words, glares, mere existence, or beliefs that conflict with mine is growing minute by minute.
It’s bedtime and I am mad again! You could fry an egg on my forehead!!!
But … wait …
Something is happening in Paris, France. I saw a bit about it come across my gold-trimmed iPhone 6s screen, but I was too busy hosting a Pity Party of One to follow the story. I mean, why would I? It’s not about me, right?
And by the way, isn’t it true that …
MY PAIN IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THEIR PAIN!!!
Now, though, as I drift off to sleep I feel … discouragement.
My subconscious has taken over and is whispering truth to me:
Compared to others, I have no problems. It’s time to grow up.
If you liked this essay, enjoy: The Accountable Person’s Bill of 39 Rights