ME ME ME Disease

The ‘what about me’ disease has recently been attacking my immune system. It’s one of my greatest weaknesses. I can sense it creeping into my skin from kilometres away, yet my body still acts surprised when it starts to invade my cells. It repulses me. This self centred, self absorbed illness that works by convincing me that everyone in the world is against me. The symptoms are not feeling appreciated, and feeling like I have been taken advantage of, and feeling like everything you do for everyone else has been forgotten. No one notices and no one cares when you sweat and no one cares when you sacrifice. My problem lies in not admitting that I have the disease. I like to ignore it. I like to pretend that it’s impossible for me to feel this way. It’s a disgusting disease anyways, and my pride tells me that I should be the exception. My pride tells me that by some miracle, when I was born, my inner make-up, and mine only, was void of any self pity. WRONG!

I hate this disease, because I am one of those humans that wear their heart on their sleeve. You know those people, right? I think we’re the hardest people to deal with in the world, because our feelings are impossible to hide. I try with all my might to swallow the ‘what about me’ disease along with some sort of righteous pain killer; but I am never successful. A pain killer is only a mask, and after its effects fade away, I am still left feeling like the world isn’t noticing ME, ME, ME. There’s my heart, right out there for everyone to see, consumed by self absorption. The worst part is that the ‘what about me’ disease is contagious. It likes to feast on people who are in good moods. It likes to bring those people down as well and it isn’t satisfied until everyone notices that ME ME ME is suffering and that ME ME ME needs some attention.

Horrible.

What finally eradicates the disease from my body is realizing that people do appreciate me, and they do love me, and they do want to take care of me. The disease feels a lot of shame when this is realized. It sort of evaporates slowly out of my body with its head down, understanding that love is always greater. That’s the kicker. Love and the disease are worst enemies. It’s like watching the same war movie over and over again. You know ahead of time that the good guys are going to win, but you sit through two hours anyways, waiting to be convinced in the final scene.

What I wil do, because everyone knows that life just moves on, is pick myself up right now. I will try to slap the ‘what about me’ disease in the face. I will tell it to go take a hike. There are more important things to do today and I don’t need the disease in my way. Here I go, and by the way, thanks for listening and reminding me that ‘what about me’ is only a moment or two that is always conquered by something so much more worth it; love.