The Joy of Misery

I like to think of myself as a fairly miserable person. And I do mean “like”. I enjoy complaining. It's fun. It gets the stupid, petty annoyances out of my head so I can let them go before they become bigger, more serious annoyances. It's not that I don't like being happy, that would be ridiculous. It's just...I don't know, I'm happier when I'm not so happy, if that makes sense. I think it's at least partly because whenever I allow myself to think things are going well, something almost always happens to prove me wrong. Why waste precious optimism only to be disappointed? And I like my pessimistic perspective, it means I can always be pleasantly surprised when things do go well, which they actually do occasionally. I guess it's a survival instinct, and after trying to fight it for a long time, I have come to like being a miserable cow.

There's a certain joy to misery that the outwardly cheerful don't seem to get. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the happy people, I really do. I would even go so far as to say I envy their positive outlook. But I can't deny that I do get pleasure from complaining and ranting; a good rant can be wonderfully cathartic! And I appreciate other people's rants, too. I get it. I understand the need to just let it out, and I'm happy to be the audience they're looking for. Surely we all just want to be heard, don't we? I kind of wish more people got the need to rant, actually. And I do get tired of the hearing the “perspective” lecture, even when it's not aimed at me. I have perspective, as I'm sure most people do. I know I am luckier than most, particularly in light of the tragic suffering and loss that's been going on recently. Complaining doesn't lessen my appreciation for what I have, or take away from the suffering of others. It's just nice to have someone listen and sympathise occasionally, no matter how petty or trivial those complaints might be. It's not about the level of importance, it's just about what's bugging me right now. Let me have my rant and I'll be done. There are very few things more frustrating than feeling dismissed because your problems aren't deemed “big” or worthy enough. Which is why there's so much joy in being around others of a similar disposition, particularly when they share the excitement of starting a sentence with “Do you know what I hate?” Yes! Bring on the ranting!

I realise that my love of misery might make me seem kind of odd, but you know what? I don't care. Okay. I do care. It's hard to give up wanting to be liked, but I am working on caring a little less, anyway. It's part of my new policy to embrace my misery. Ironically, I think mastering that will actually make me happier. Although then I'd have less to complain about. Damn it! I haven't thought this through, have I? I'm going to have to give this a lot more thought...which will almost certainly lead to me over thinking it and that always makes me miserable. Awesome!