How Lucky I Am to be So Unlucky

I mostly resent my unlucky nature and with good reason. When I’m asleep, when I should be breathing involuntarily, I wake up in a panic with blue skin because there wasn’t enough oxygen circulating in my body, accompanied by a violent headache. I don’t have any other symptoms of sleep apnea, specialists have also ruled that out, and I’m not overweight. I’m doing everything I can and should be doing. In cold weather, I have poor circulation and develop knots so severe that my friends describe as mutating, which results in excruciatingly painful legs and shoulders. In the heat, I develop heat rashes and sun poison so severe that I’ve almost been hospitalized in a mere 100 degrees F. When I get cold sores, the majority of my lips are occupied with yellow pus. And every time I talk, it oozes. I have to drink through a straw because drinking out of a cup reopens my wounds and I start to bleed, again. When my apartment had no running water for a week, I got an eye infection within three days. I can’t stay out as long as I’d like because bras make my skin break out into a rash. It isn’t the laundry detergent, material being used, or the size. My back is overarched, so the natural alignment of my spinal structure is always stressed. My misaligned back throws my neck alignment off, throwing my shoulders off, my hips are off because of my spine, so my weight is shifted unevenly on my knees and ankles. I have imbalanced hormones, so I have symptoms similar to senior citizens and problems that women with menopause face. I do a complete background check on my physician. Everything seems to clear, and she mistakes my prescription three times! I seem to be the only one experiencing account errors at my bank, misplacement of my transcripts, etc. It makes life a bitch. I should be grateful for what I have, and I try to be. For the most part, I’m good about it. But on some days, the last thing I care about is that some people have it worse than me. I’m not those other people. I never seem to take a break. It’s hard to be grateful comparatively to something I don’t understand. It’s much easier for me to be grateful with something I’m exposed to. To some extent I know that I’m a strong person. But I feel like if I were really strong, I would’ve developed into a more resilient, self-disciplined, and tolerant person. I’ve had an extremely difficult childhood growing up, and I defy all of the statistics. Yet, I feel like I have the characteristics of a weak person, complaining and being unhappy with my problems. Then again, I am a strong person because I’ve seen someone I care about complain over some menial things. You’re scared walking two blocks in a safe neighborhood because you’re too lazy to drive? After two months working at a job with basic tasks that most minors can teach themselves, and you don’t know what to do because your manager won’t train you. After a certain point, that’s a reflection on your learning potential. If you’re not satisfied with where you are, you can find another job…you can ask co-workers for help…you can try relying on your own knowledge…you can stop complaining about other people’s shortcomings and improve upon your own…you can try exerting some self-reliance. Blinding yourself to the choices ahead of you or occupying your time complaining about something you can’t change perpetuates weak-willed tendencies. I can’t understand how some people become so overwhelmed with the smallest things that I barely acknowledge. I know everyone’s different, but I’m a highly stressed person. There’s a difference between not being able to cope and finding things to not cope about. I guess not everyone can tell the difference. It came as a surprise for me because I thought she was stronger than that. I thought we were alike. If that were true, that mirrors poorly on me. As my boyfriend put it, “If you don’t have to be strong, you’re usually not.” I never felt that I was strong because I endured the crap that happens in my life. It enters my life without my say. What else am I supposed to do? I guess it never occurred to me that I could just give up. My endless misfortunate has never made me consider giving up. It’s only given me daily opportunities to try and change things for the better, not give me an opening to complain, so I can harvest an environment for a self-defeatist outlook. If I didn’t want to live in it, I wouldn’t be around. I’m not one to accept things, and I always thought that made me weak. As it turns out, that makes me strong. I have the willingness to oppose authority for a better future. My unluckiness has exposed me to a world of unfairness that I battle. If I were lucky, I would never have to endure the crap I deal with, but I’d also be weak. I don’t have time, and I’m too strong of a person to complain over ignorable matters. The things I complain about interfere with my daily life, and I find ways to make it worth. I never realized this before, but my unluckiness has made me the resilient and strong person I am today.