A Glass of Whine

I admit I like to complain. I like to point out that life isn’t fair, that there are people out there who have it easier than me, or have better opportunities than I do, or live more interesting lives than me and that I’m not happy about that.

I complain about the fact that I have been working out for over 12 years and haven’t  yet accomplished my goal of having the type of body I’ve always wanted. I complain that injuries – the dislocated shoulder, the herniated discs in my neck, the sciatica in my back – have set me back the past couple of years from attaining full potential. That due to said injuries I have to work even harder than I should have to.

I complain that I was dealt a shitty genetic pool. That my muscles are not pre-programmed to easily bulk up. That my chest bones protrude outwards making it all the more difficult to develop a flattering, bulbous chest like I want. That my hips bell outwards giving me a pear shape, not the coveted V-shape like I want and that most guys have. That no matter how hard I try to achieve the body I want I’ll never really get it because I can’t reshape my bone structure.

I complain that I am “all or nothing” when it comes to drinking. I know if I don’t want to ever smoke cigarettes again and if I don’t want to waste my life sitting in a bar that I will never be able to touch alcohol again. I complain that due to my tendency to party a bit too hard I had to cut off drinking completely and now I am missing out on having “normal” in situations. That I can’t go out on a Friday night or go on vacation or just have a relaxing dinner and have a drink at the same time. I complain that I am being denied the basic right to get stinking drunk if I want to because I know it wouldn’t be just once. That if I open the flood gates by having one drink it will lead me to having more and before I know I’ll be smoking and drinking multiple nights a week and everything I’ve been working for will be tossed out the window.

I complain that I’m 36 years old and I haven’t found my true calling in life.

I complain that I’m scared of flying and that it has held me back from wanting to book trips to places to the point that I’ve only been outside of the United States once in my entire life. That I feel I’m uncultured and uninteresting due to my lack of travel.

And most stupidly, I complain that I complain. Who am I to complain? I’m assumingly healthy and live in a decent apartment in one of the best cities in the world and am dating a great guy and have a loving family and have a lifetime ahead of me. Where do I get off complaining about anything? Why do I feel I deserve any better than I have?

I recently watched one of Oprah’s Lifeclass episodes where Tony Robbins helped people who were stuck in a bad place in their lives. They talked about people being stuck in their story. That people get so hung up on their past and what is holding them back, that they continue to let that prevent them from moving on. They focus so strongly on the negative, the bad, the misfortune that they don’t realize that if they would just “get over it” and start going after what they want, the could start down the path towards change.

I like the concept yet find the execution to be a bit more difficult than I’d like. And I don’t like the person I am when I complain. I feel like it used to be easier when I could just go have a drink. Life got you down? I’ll just go have a drink and wash it away. Now, I’ll have a bad day, or get frustrated or angry or sad and I can’t go to a bar to dull the senses. Now I have to just deal. I’m not used to doing that yet. I keep waiting for it to get easier but I’m not there quite yet.

A work in progress for certain…

“When the world starts to get you down
And nothing seems to go your way
And the noise of the maddening crowd
Makes you feel like you’re going to go insane

There’s a glow of a distant light
Calling you to come outside
To feel the wind on your face and your skin
And it’s here I begin my story…”

-Madonna ‘Turn Up The Radio’