So it’s kind of come to my attention that the human race is flawed.  I know, news flash, right?  There’s something somewhat specific that I’m talking about, though.  More and more I’ve really noticed that we as humans expect something out of life.  We expect it to work.  We expect it to be what we dream.  We expect to be happy and have everything work out for us.  And when it doesn’t, we get pissed.  I mean, seriously pissed.  It’s like we expect the world to cater to us, to revolve around us.  And I’m pretty sure that almost every human suffers from this problem.

I would have to say that I have probably noticed this problem is probably the most evident when in traffic.  Think about it.  Every day someone cuts you off, honks at you because you are turning too slow, wants you to let them in even though it’s their own fault they pulled into the wrong lane and are now holding up traffic… can you tell I have encountered people with this issue?  And that I suffer from it myself?  Do we think that we own the road?  We don’t, the government does and allows us to drive on it, allow with millions of other drivers.  And everyone thinks they know how to drive and thinks that they are the only one that really knows the right way to drive.  Do we even realize that everyone else has learned to drive somehow and probably thinks that they are doing it the right way as well?  Do we ever stop to consider that maybe we are the ones in the wrong, or that maybe there is more than one correct way to drive?  Or maybe we shouldn’t just think that since we pulled out first in the line of traffic that we shouldn’t let someone else in, that they don’t deserve it.  We come first… and we’re entitled to be upset if anyone dares get in our way.

And thus comes out the root of all of it.  Entitlement.  We were born in the U.S. – the land of the free and the brave, right?  So we automatically inherit the right to have a job, money, a house, a car, a significant other, and these days a computer, a cell phone, and a TV.  Well, sure – we do inherit that right.  But does that mean we are entitled to have these things, that because of who we are, they should just be ours?  Honestly, a lot of people seem to think so.  But guess what?  Not everyone has them.  Not even everyone in the United States has them.  And why is that?  Well, a lot of it has to do with where and how they happened to grow up.

I grew up in a small town, part of a lower middle-class family.  So I had everything I needed.  We struggled at times, sure, but we always had a place to live and food on the table.  But really, not too much more than that.  My parents bought me things when they could, and we took trips when we could, but there were definitely plenty of times when we were hurting for cash.  My dad, when he had a stroke several years ago and became unable to work, had to sell off his entire business just to be able to continue to support himself and my mom.  So growing up… well, we were kind of only really a few steps away from the poor house at times.  Well, I grew up, and got myself through college, and landed a good job and have really just moved forward since then.  I don’t struggle financially usually, I’m able to pay all my bills, and have done pretty decent for myself.  But what if I had wound up in a different situation?  What if I hadn’t been interested in and good at something that could get me a job making decent money?  What if I hadn’t been able to find a job?  What if I’d been in a situation that made it harder to be able to go to college?  I could’ve easily found myself there – plenty of people are.  Would I still feel like I deserve everything that I have?

One of the reasons I started volunteering at Outreach, Inc. was because I knew that I was just one circumstance away from being in the same position the kids they serve are.  What if I’d grown up differently, being around people that maybe were in a gang and that was the norm, or with parents that mistreated or neglected me, or with a mental disability that left me unable to understand what I really needed to do to survive?  What if I’d been born to a single mom that had no money?  Any of those things could’ve been very possible and would’ve put me into a very different situation.  Why should I think I’m any better than anyone else around me or entitled to anything more than they have?  Obviously they aren’t entitled to all that I have, or they would have it, right?  But if I could be in their situation – if that’s a possibility – then why do I have all of this and they don’t?  Maybe I’m not really entitled to anything at all.  Maybe I’m really no better than the guy that cut me off in traffic, or the beggar on the street downtown that I just pass up with looking at.

So really, what are we entitled to?  Anything?  Certainly there are people both born in the United States and other countries that are born into poverty with pretty much nothing to their name.  Is it by any act of our own that we weren’t born that way?  I’d say no, it’s really not.  So maybe we need to think about that some more.  Look around you at all that you have.  I know it’s cliché, saying we should be grateful for all we have, and that’s not what I’m getting at, really.  What I want you to examine is your attitude more than anything.  Sure, be grateful you have things and people in your life that you enjoy.  But I advise you to take a long hard look at how you behave, what you expect from the world and the people around you.  Do you expect them to cater to you?  Do you expect to get that good parking spot close to the door because you deserve it?  Take a look at how you’re living and the attitude you have when you walk into a restaurant or store somewhere, or even when you’re with your friends.  Do you expect things from them?  Do you expect the world – your servers, your fellow drivers, your friends – to cater to you just because you are you?  Maybe you shouldn’t.  Maybe, instead, you should sprinkle your attitude with a bit more humility and realize that you could’ve ended up someone completely different.  You could’ve ended up being that person next to you, with their problems and blessings instead of yours – so maybe you’d better be a bit more thoughtful about how you treat them.

This is a difficult blog post to write because it is very personal.  Sometimes I wonder if the posts I make aren’t too personal, but really, in a lot of ways, I am willing to share a lot about myself if someone asks.  I consider myself a pretty open person.  Sure, there are plenty of things that people don’t know about me, but the only real reason I don’t share those things is because of the person listening and knowing that they are different than me and feeling like they probably wouldn’t understand.  It’s not because I don’t want to be open with people.

I know I’ve posted on here about my difficulties sometimes since my dad died.  I mean, I don’t know that that’s where it starts, or that there even really is a starting point.  I could look at it as having started before that if I chose to – my grandparents both died a few years before my dad.  I remember once going to the Indy Star website and searching for my dad’s obituary only to realize that my grandpa’s came up as well (my dad was a “Jr”).  Then less than two years before my dad died, one of my best friends for the last ten years or so basically had a heart attack and wound up in the hospital in a coma.  He survived and made a full recovery, thankfully, but then about a month later my cousin had something similar happen and did not survive.  Then about six months after that, my uncle passed away as well.  And only a few weeks after my dad died last year, I lost another cousin to breast cancer.  ALL of these family members I would consider close.  I do have family that I rarely see, but these were all people that I grew up with and remember very well.  I could go into each one of my relationships with all of these people so you could see what I mean, but that’s not what this post is really about.

It’s not all just death that has affected me.  I tend to really feel things when stuff goes on with my friends, and there has been miscellaneous drama there that I won’t go fully into.  People I considered family went through things and went their separate ways.  Friends betrayed friends.  People that I considered friends and sought after for friendship denied it.  I guess all of these things have affected me more than I’m sometimes willing to admit.  I just really hate playing the victim.  I don’t want to say “oh, look what I’m going through” because I know there is always someone out there going through something worse.  So I mostly just take it all on myself, deal with my feelings on my own as they come.

So where has this left me?  Wow, what a loaded question.  And a tricky one to answer.  I’ve made some mistakes.  I’ve taken on some new things.  Grad school has been more difficult than expected at times.  All of this death, drama with friends, my own mistakes, and my own shortcomings have left me feeling very unworthy.  Worthless, pretty much.  Don’t get me wrong, I know deep down I’m not.  And sometimes I believe it.  But the slightest thing can set me off, leave me feeling like I’m nothing.  I can’t seem to battle it very well, and it has caused me off and on periods of depression for a while now.  I seem to just see all the things I do wrong – I’m not good enough at work, I’m not good enough at school, I’m not a good enough friend, I’m not a good enough girlfriend, my house isn’t clean enough, my body’s not skinny enough… I could go on for a while.

I saw a counselor for a few weeks, something offered from my school.  It helped a little having someone to talk to, but 1) it was awkward telling everything to someone that didn’t really know me, and 2) I always seemed to go in on the days I was feeling good and they wondered why I was even there, and 3) on the one day I wasn’t “on”, I didn’t want to talk and couldn’t explain why I felt down, so that felt awkward too.  I’m taking a break from it for now since my counselor finished her practicum, but I might go back at some point.  We’ll see.

I’m not really sure how this post ends, because I’m still at this part in the story.  I’m still struggling, still feeling not good enough pretty frequently.  I guess I just wanted to share it so my friends might have some idea how I’m feeling.  Deep down, I have plenty of confidence and I know who I am.  But I’m having a hard time keeping a hold on that lately.  So I guess I just write this to ask for your help.  Not your sympathy, really, just your help in remembering who I am.  If I seem like I have it all together, I don’t.  No one does.  We all need support and encouragement sometimes, and reminders of who we really are and what’s good about us.  That’s one thing I learned as a part of Beyond Your Best… that everyone really is some kind of gift to the world, and that a lot of us never see ourselves that way.  I knew it about myself at one point, but now I’m not really feeling it much anymore.  It may sound cheesy, but consider your actions and words, towards anyone… encouraging someone instead of ignoring them or tearing them down might just make a much bigger difference than you realize.

What?  You haven’t heard of gRegorLove?  How is that possible?  He is only the most awesome ladies man around!  You can read the story of gRegorLove right here, but you haven’t gotten the full effect until you get to know him.  I met gRegor sometime in 1999, I believe.  This was back when the chat program ICQ was pretty popular, and I did a search for people living in my zip code at the time.  Oddly enough, gRegor didn’t live in my zip code anymore, but had briefly at one point in time.  We got to chatting off and on for a while, and he eventually invited me to “Club Z” at the now-defunct Sonshine Inn.  So I went, on a Tuesday night, down to Fountain Square, dragging my best friend Seren along with me.  The first time I was there, I didn’t know anyone, and gRegor was so popular that he seemed to always have someone around him, but eventually we connected and introduced ourselves.  Thus the beginning of what I believe will be a lifelong friendship.

I eventually began attending Club Z more regularly, and was also invited to movie nights on Sundays at the “Mecca” (aka the Deckard’s house in Danville) as well as the Bible studies they were holding at the time.  Through gRegor, I made many new friends, including the infamous Deckards and the other two members of the Tridumbverate.  My friendship with him has been the beginning of many things, including five years of trips to Cornerstone, lots of nights at Sonshine Inn, promotion of quite a few local concerts, infinite inside jokes, and a slew of new friends made.

Earlier this year, I moved into a new apartment, my fourth move within the last six or so years.  And even though I only moved across the street within my apartment complex, it was still a huge hassle.  It made me realize that if you really want to find a way to see who your true friends are, just move and ask people to help you.  Nobody ever wants to, and it seems like most people will try to avoid it at all costs.  But selfless friends will always be the first in line to volunteer.  And though it’s not always willingly, gRegor has helped me every time I’ve moved.

If you know gRegor much at all, you know that friendship with him is not something you really ever want to give up.  He is one of the friendliest, kindest, most loving people I have ever met.  I’m not sure it’s possible to find a person that knows what being a friend really means better than him.  And in 2007, we all came close to losing such a great friend.  On a Sunday morning that May, I woke up to voice mail messages from a couple of friends.  gRegor had been watching a movie with them and all of a sudden he started having what they thought was a seizure.  It was actually a problem with his heart, and he had to be taken to the hospital.  Over the course of a few days, many people came to visit him in the hospital.  The prospect was grim, and his condition was very serious.  We weren’t sure if it would turn out okay.  But it did.  Thankfully, gRegor woke up, and eventually made a full recovery.  He now has to wear a pacemaker to protect that big heart of his.

I will never forget the day I got those phone messages and rushed to the hospital.  I knew I was one of few friends he had (at least locally, as a lot of our friends from shortly after the time I met him have now moved to other states) that really knew his parents, and I also probably had more friends in common with him than pretty much anyone, so I took on the responsibility of calling people who knew and loved him to let them know what had happened.  I made A LOT of phone calls that day.  I think pretty much everyone that knows gRegor realizes what a gift he is, and the world definitely wasn’t ready to give him up.  I know I won’t be anytime soon!  I’m very blessed to have had gRegor in my life for about 10 years now and to be able to call him one of my best friends and heroes, and I look forward to many more years of spending time with him.  Love you, gRegorLove! <3