So I'm one week in to trying to give up complaining. It's hard. I don't just mean complaining out loud, but also on the inside, like basically getting angry at anything stupid that I can't do anything about. If I'm complaining about something, either in my head or out loud, then I'm wanting the the world to be different to how it is. But the world, the people, the places, the things, are all just how they are. It used to really drive me mad when people said "it is what it is mate". I'd be like "That doesn't fucking mean anything!!!". But is so true, that phrase. So clever. It is what it is. Deal with it.
If I want things to be different to how they are I'll always be in some kind of state of suffering. You can see that in toddlers when they go through that "terrible twos" stage. When they're told they can't have something they want in Sainsbury's they go mental and freak the fuck out and do shit like hold their breath until they go blue. It's like they're possessed. All because the world won't be how they want it to be. It's a tough time, because it's the first time they have to realise that there's other people in the world, and they want stuff too, which means the world doesn't revolve around them anymore and they can't have it all their own way. They struggle with that, understandably. They've been treated like some kind of ancient Egyptian queen up to that point. But then they have to adjust to being one of the common folk. Some adults struggle with that idea their whole lives and never really learn to cope with it. When you feel like that when you're an adult - like an angry toddler - it's the part of you that hasn't grown up yet who's taken control of you for a sec. Beware that part. The baby. Baby won't take you to good places. If I can learn to accept the world and people exactly how they are then I'll feel much better and will do less stupid shit. It's hard though. It takes practice.
When I was young, on family holidays, my brother used to call me "No Complaints Fred". Obviously because I complained so much. I didn't think I complained. I thought I was right about stuff and was justifiably angry because things were wrong and it wasn't acceptable. But that's the story resentful people tell themselves. Complaints are born out of resentment. And resentment is the beginning of the decent into hell. Resentment is the most dangerous human emotion, both for the person who's resentful and those who come into contact with them. It starts as little gripes. Little complaints. But it grows over time. It feeds itself with supporting evidence. Before too long resentment can take people over altogether. Mass shootings are born out of resentment. Nazi Germany was born out of resentment, The Russian Revolution, revenge killings, drug addiction, domestic abuse, it's all from resentment. Left unchecked, or fuelled like a fire, resentment will always end badly. Sometimes in suicide.
In some people resentment turns inwards. They turn it on themselves. That's what I think depression is. That's what happen to me. I hated myself. Sort of. Not all the time. But a lot of the time. A big part of me hated myself. I blamed myself for fucking my life up. I hadn't even fucked my life up. But resentment was in control by then. It had taken me. And it wanted me to die. But I kept going. And when I felt well enough someone helped me look at how resentment featured in my life. How it affected things without me knowing. I didn't think I was a resentful person, but we have no idea who we are really. But other people can help you learn about yourself.
So now I try to deal with resentment as soon as it appears. I notice it. HA! I SEE YOU! UH UH UH. NOT THIS TIME BRO! I feel it. I notice it. I watch it. Then let it go. And I don't do anything stoopid while it's there. It's really hard. I catch myself complaining all the time. But I'm practicing. And I'll get better. And soon I'll be No Complaints Fred for real.