It's Too Hard To Be Thankful

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We never worry about our health until it is ours that is on the line. Have you ever noticed that our health is never our own concern until the potential for the worse is staring us in the face? We become the most grateful people in the world once our bad situation has turned around for the better, but are very eager to forget the heartfelt emotions that reminded us of what it meant to be thankful. Man is not consistent. Will we ever be?

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I'm guilty and I know it. I was recently sick and in need of care. I went to the doctor's office, received my medication, and naturally, went home crying because I thought that I was dying. Yes people, I disregarded the fact that my diagnosis was not life-threatening and still went home and cried my eyes out, while eating ice cream and watching Law & Order reruns because I just knew that the doctor was SO wrong, and my self-diagnosis, from which I (the more of a professional than my doctor) received from WebMD was more accurate. Typical, no? 

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Anyway, for over a week, I panicked like no other. This panic was not like any other, this panic involved me having nightmares of my funeral, yelling at my boyfriend because he wasn't fixing the problem (even though he was VERY instrumental in trying to figure out ways to fix the problem, in addition to the medication that I received), crying for no reason or simply because I thought it was so long since I last cried and was, therefore, overdue for another good cry, and overeating (but this is not surprising - I like food). Tests were sent out and results finally came back, and they were 100% certain that I was going to live. I hung up the phone and felt miserable. 

I do not know if it was a question of my faith that got me messed up or if it was simply my reaction to the entire situation. Shouldn't I have known that it wasn't my time to leave the Earth, even after the doctor reported that my life was never being threatened by anything that wasn't curable? Aren't I suppose to feel ashamed/guilty for knowing that I had always taken my health for granted prior to this experience? How depressing it was to know that I may even do it again! 

Welcome to PeopleSuck101! 

It has been a difficult reality to embrace. Am I actually selfish? Do I even know how to be thankful? Am I really thankful for something if I forget about what it is I was thankful for, moments/days/years later? How many times of saying, "Thank-you" is enough? What does it really mean? 

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I was starting to think that "thanks," and "thank-yous" were fillers similar to "really," "actually," "literally," "simply," "very," and the rest of the words that take up a lot of space on a first-year academic paper. I've said the word numerous times throughout my 21 years of living, but I have never said it enough times in one sitting to the point that it made me question what the hell it was that I kept throwing out of my mouth. Words that are often thrown around, such as "love," "hate," and "dream" don't seem to have much meaning in this day in age.  I'm almost convinced that I will add those to my list of fillers as well. (Sad day in the world of an English major). My understanding so far: it's extremely (filler alert!) hard to be thankful! 

Imagine yourself walking around showing appreciation all the time... EXHAUSTING, right? 

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Now, I am not saying that I know the cure for injecting purpose back into these terms. What I am saying, however, is that there may still be hope. Everything starts with a thought. These, my thoughts/reflections, are now yours. Being that thoughts turn into actions, and actions yield change, I trust that sooner or later the world can potentially (there's another filler!) have a better grip on what it means to be thankful, to love, to hate, to dream. 

Use you words wisely people. 

Let's all try to #DoBetter with being thankful for the blessings we have. 

Best,

MM :)