Sometimes, my life sucks. But otherwise….
Life is decent. I have accomplished things of which I can be proud. I’ve overcome serious obstacles from an abusive childhood and I have achieved things nobody thought I could ever achieve.
If I wanted to, I could throw a pity-party for myself. It’s easy, it’s trendy, all the kids are doing it these days…. But I won’t. When I feel down, I think about the life I’ve lived–the amazing things I’ve seen, the people I’ve been privileged to meet and learn from, the education I’ve worked hard to achieve, and the progress I’ve made dealing with my own mental illness–and it helps.
Sure, there are problems in my life. But I’m here, I’ve got a pedigree I forged for myself, and I’ve got plans for the future. I may be pushing 50, but my mental acuity is that of a man half my age. I’m working on my third master’s degree and, once completed, I will be master of arts, master of fine arts, and master of science. I view this as a significant step in becoming a well-rounded and well-informed person–a goal I have pursued since I was a teenager.
I could look back on my failings–and the number of those is staggering, to be honest–and weep. Or I can choose to look back and focus on what I’ve done right. When I do that, I feel accomplished and it eases my mind.
I choose to focus on the good in my life.
Those who have never followed through on a plan of self-improvement, of self-empowerment–I don’t know how they continue to draw breath, to be quite honest.