Worldsuck

I know, dear readers, I am about to hit you with yet another depressing post. But that is what I am here for, and now I have warned you. You are, of course, free to leave and go on with your perfect lives. If not, then be my guest and keep reading.

Sometimes it's the small things in life that makes you cry. I am not saying that the big things don't hurt, for they do. Of course they do, and they can alter your life in ways no one ever thought possible. I am not ignoring the big things. I promise you. But the little things often get pushed out of the way because, hey, you're not suffering as much as the people in Haiti are.
Obviously, I am not.

But what if you feel bad? That won't go away just because you have a bed to sleep in and food on the table. Life is supposed to be so much more than that, and dammit, I want more.
I don't want to wake up and wish I didn't have to face another day. I don't want to go to bed with a headache because I was fighting with my brother again.

I want to be happy, but I am just to damn negative to be that.

I am always the one to tells people to get over it. Be happy. If you try, then you will succeed. And you cannot fail until you have tried. But what about me?
Why do I not follow the advice I keep throwing at others? Why am I allowed to hurt inside when I tell other to simply stop whining.

I am a terrible person, that's why.

It's easier to tell other what to do. It's easier to tell them to get over it because it's not you. It's not I who is crying on the inside, not about that. But I know. I know it hurts.
I know.

So, wat I am trying to say is that life kind of sucks. But we all need to get back up on that bucking horse, and just grab the reins and go. Don't care about the people hurting you, and the tears you need to shed. Don't bother with the idiots and bad days. If you want, you can conquer all that, and you can be happy.
It's just a really long ride.

But you can make it.

I have a sadface today.

I've been thinking a lot about my hand these past couple of weeks, and how much it has stopped me from achieving things in life. It's made me stay on the sidelines instead of leading the pack. It has made me afraid of being who I am pretty sure I could be.

Though I am often held back by it, I think it has made me more of a fighter. I've had to struggle for things in life. For the small things. And the big things.

When I was a kid the playgrounds were all about the big scary climbing wall. You've all seen it. When we look at it now, we laugh and wonder why we ever thought it was so important to reach the top. But it was something we had to fight for. Some of us never got past the first step. Some of us got caught in the middle and some of us reached the top.

Mom used to say that it didn't matter if I reached the top. And to her it didn't. She still loved me. But I think I had to prove to myself, and everybody else, that I could. I could climb that wall, hand or no hand.

And I did. I climbed. And I won.

It was a great accomplishment for me. These days things are harder.

I've always been taught by my parents never to be ashamed of my dysmelia, and that I don't need to hide it. I haven't, but it's still always on my mind and subconsciously, it scares me. I am afraid.

I admit it. Because of this, I have given up things in life. I've been hiding. I've stepped off the ledge when all I should have done was to jump out and hope that my wings will carry me. But I haven't. Maybe I will soon. I've already started to trust and believe in myself more this last couple of years.

But I am only jumping a few feet. Nothing more.

I know my handicap is very simple, and I am lucky. I've got my wrist left, something I have had so much use of. I don't feel lucky most of the time though. I feel angry and sad. This isn't easy, and no one really deserves this.

This is such a depressing post, but I just need to get it out every other month or so. Usually I keep it all inside, until I burst out into a fit of tears.

I guess I just hate it sometimes. I hate it so much