It's Hard Being a Human

I heard once in a meeting, “Life is hard, if you let it be.” I lived by that quote, up until recently. Life is just fucking hard sometimes. I am 43 years old, and it just seems that I’m coming to terms with unpacking all of my shit, now. Shit I didn’t even really realize I had until the last year or so.

Better late than never, you say? I say bullshit. This is stuff I “knew” years ago, but was just to arrogant, or prideful, or delusional to deal with. My father deals with much of the same issues that I deal with, and rather than admit to ever being anything like him, I’d rather just keep it to myself. If you knew him, you’d know why. On the polar end of that, whenever I’ve been caught with similar behaviors, my out was (or so I thought) “Well, I’m my fathers child.”

To you, whoever “you” are, I am positive, outgoing, extroverted, confident, and ever encouraging. I’ve been called “a walking meme.” To me, I’m sad, anxious, insecure, a liar* at times (I’ll expand on this later, if you hang,) angry and resentful.

*People lie for two reasons, and two reasons alone. Either they don’t want to hurt you, or they don’t want to hurt themselves. Most often, it is the latter. I have at times been the epitome of this, but no worries, I own it.

My life is hard, right now. And I definitely didn’t choose this. I also definitely made a conscious decision to choose a lot of the events that led up to this moment, but I didn’t choose for it to be hard. So, fuck that guy in that meeting so many years ago.