Friday, April 15, 2011

It Was Just a Bad Day

Note: I posted this on Friday, but woke up Saturday morning wondering if it really came across the way I meant it. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to look over it till today. I'm just going to go ahead and re-post it. I don't intend for it to sound whiny or all woe-is-me, but if it does, I'm sorry.

Today was the bad end of a bad week. And I mentioned that on Facebook. And, of course, that seemed to some to be an invitation to some to tell me that my life is actually so great and I have no right to say things are bad. Am I the only one who doesn't get that? This compulsion to tell others that they shouldn't feel the way they feel? It doesn't only bother me when someone does it to me, but also when I see it done to others.

I am keenly aware that my life circumstance is better than that of a good percentage of the people currently living on the earth. I read a lot. I know about how bad things are for a lot of people. I hate that so many people have such a terrible time of it. I really do. And if I spend too much time thinking about that, I start to get very melancholy and depressed. If I knew what I could do to make life better for people in horrible situations, I would do it.

So, sure. I realize that when I say I've had a bad day that there are many others out there who are having worse lives than my one bad day. I never said otherwise. But I don't really understand why other people being in bad circumstances means that I can't just say that I'm looking forward to tomorrow since today was crap.

Why is it so difficult to just wish someone well? To hope for them that things improve? To just let them have a down moment, while hoping for better? What happened to empathy?

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