On complaining

Why you should balance your #blessed with your #FFS

Dear Writer,

I was out with my kid a few weeks ago, and we were talking about some of the things they struggle with, and I found myself saying, “You know… they say gratitude journaling is really helpful” and I hated myself for it.

I grew up in the smack-dab middle of Generation Shut Yer Yap and Be Grateful You Shit Punk and as a result, I’ve spent my life being so grateful for such shit situations that when I started therapy in my 30s and told my therapist about my life and finished up with, “I’m really lucky, though,” she actually snorted out loud.

“What?” I said.

“You are not lucky,” she said.

I was shocked. It took me years to understand what she meant, because I was lucky. Forget that I would never take so much as the Bronze in the suffering Olympics; I wouldn’t even make the damn team. I have watched what others have gone through and thought about my luck and my blessings constantly throughout my life, and I’m not wrong. I never went hungry as a kid. I always had what I needed. I had good health, I got good grades, had good friends, went to a good school. I was born with a natural bouncy disposition that protected me from the severe depression I probably should have had, considering that I was also extremely unlucky.

Because you can be both at the same time.

Because life is complex, y’all.

WHY HANK GREEN SHOULD COMPLAIN

Recently, I saw this tweet from Hank Green… who has fucking cancer, y’all… and I about lost my shit.

caption...

For anyone who doesn’t know, Hank recently found out he has cancer and has been going through chemotherapy while still creating content and sharing his journey and I adore Hank Green. Even though he’s like 7 years younger than me, he’s basically the dad I wish I’d had, and when I need comfort, I often turn to his content.

And here he is, saying he shouldn’t be complaining.

When he has cancer.

Yes, sweetheart. Yes, you should be complaining. Cancer is the fucking worst and chemo is a nightmare and yes, please, complain. You can also be grateful that you have a highly treatable form of cancer and that your prognosis is about as good as prognoses get with cancer and you can do good by sharing your journey publicly… I absolutely admire and endorse all of that.

But, please, also complain. Because fuck that shit.

A GROWN-ASS WOMAN WHINING

For the first almost 40 years of my life, all I saw was how lucky I was, and even once I started to understand how fucked up my childhood was, I remained grateful for what I did have, and I do think that helped me get through it all. So, at gunpoint, I’d say yes… gratitude is a good thing.

But only when it exists in a proper, healthy balance with an equal amount of shameless, petulant whining.

The toxically positive gratitude movement…

…the expectations of which predominantly fell on the shoulders of people identifying as women in our culture (although not exclusively, see above re: Hank Green)…

…has been, like most things, both good and bad. I am grateful for everything I had. My mother was a hot fucking mess, but she worked really hard, and taught me the value of hard work. My brother was abusive, but he moved out of the house when I was 16, and from then on, hardly ever came after me with a baseball bat. My father died when I was 12, but I remember him being funny—the only person in my family with any sense of humor at all—and he bought me a blue typewriter when I was a kid, supporting me as a writer when he had no idea that’s what I’d grow up to be.

For most of my life, I would only be able to allow brittle acknowledgements of the good without even looking at the bad, and on those rare occasions when my anger or sadness took over, I would literally say things like, “I have no idea why I’m crying, I’m so lucky!”

I don’t drink at all at home, but recently I went to visit a friend and we had a glass (or two) of whiskey, which was way too much for me because I have no tolerance, and I don’t remember much else aside from sitting on her couch and just weeping. Now, we were talking about a mutual friend with whom I’ve lost contact and I was grieving that friendship and I’m currently writing a book about that exact situation that happened with another friend who I still love dearly to this day and it’s possible I have some unexamined grief from both situations which caused me to weep for, like, an hour because I spend so much goddamn time being so fucking #blessed I didn’t even realize I was hurt by the situation.

I’m a work in progress, people. As are we all, until we die, or we’re not doing it right.

That said, I am realizing that toxic gratitude to the exclusion of the things that bring us tremendous existential pain, or even common minor annoyance, is just as destructive as constant complaining about everything so much that we can’t see the good stuff.

I am realizing that, as with most things, acceptance of complexity and finding balance is, as the kids say these days, the trick.

I first dipped into this realization a few years ago, and as a result, completely unconsciously…

…I have started whining.

I’m not talking figuratively, like, I’ve started indulging in acknowledging when things suck and allowing myself to discuss those things like an adult at appropriate times and in appropriate ways.

I mean… I whine.

I make a literal noise.

Now, granted, I started making this noise to be funny because I struggled with acknowledging when things suck and allowing myself to discuss those things like an adult at appropriate times and in appropriate ways. Instead, what I chose to do was make a joke out of my annoyance by making a little whiney noise.

I’ve recorded myself doing it, so I’m going to share it with you here, but let me just say that if listening to a grown ass woman literally whine is not your cuppa, feel free to not hit the play button.

WHY YOU SHOULD COMPLAIN

Here’s the surprise that happened as a result of this jokey little whine.

It started to make me feel better.

There are studies where people who curse under physical duress feel less pain than those who don’t, and I heard about something where the reason why people moan when they don’t feel well is that it makes them feel better. I’d go out and find the studies and cite them here but you have the internet as well, and honestly…

My point is, I’m pretty sure there’s science behind this and even if there isn’t, my anecdotal personal evidence is that it fucking works. When I’m annoyed with something stupid or I Just Don’ Wanna Do Something I Hafta or when they’re out of the brand of whatever that I specifically came to the store to get… I let out a little whine and it’s funny and it makes me feel better.

My husband has gotten to the point where when he hears that sound, it erupts in him this masculine response of Wife Needs Me and his chest swells up like Superman and he rushes to my side to acknowledge my distress and help if he can.

And let me tell you, I am very #blessed that this is his response to this very annoying sound. He feels like a superhero and I get to relieve that little bit of irritation that I would have otherwise swallowed along with a million other little bits of irritation until I end up punching multiple holes in the garage wall with a power drill because I can’t remove the charger from said wall when I’m late to return my lease to the dealer.

Yes, that random example is oddly specific because, a few years back, that’s exactly what I did.

Like I said… work in progress.

So here’s the challenge I’m setting out to you. Yes, be grateful, but balance your gratitude with your FOR FUCK’S SAKE and if that #FFS comes out in a cute little whine that makes your significant other feel like the emotional support rockstar that they are… then so be it.

Everything,

L