I am not complaining.............and it isn't just me
It's a well known fact that the reason comedy is comedy and slapstick makes people laugh is that other people's misfortunes are precisely that - other people's. It's also a known reflex and coping mechanism to make a joke out of something bad to take the edge off it. People get paid for ranting, for performing as stand up comedians were mostly we are laughing in slightly embarrassed recognition of ourselves or in at least part gratitude that this time it wasn't us.
So how come some people call it complaining or moaning, when I do precisely what those others do, and invite you to join me in wry consideration of my misfortunes which could easily (well relatively so) be yours? Don't criticise or annoy me more, make me grin, albeit wryly, by encouraging me to see the grim humour in the situation and we can both have a laugh.
And who ever thought that the person telling the tale thinks they are the worst off in the world? It's all relative depending on who it is happening to (to whom it is happening) and I do not ever think for one second that I am the worst off, in fact quite the opposite, critics hear this _ the inner voice is telling me even as I recount my own misfortune that people will misunderstand, it is reminding me of the tiny similarity between my own situation and those in real jeopardy, constantly highlighting the contrast in awfulness. But does that negate what is happening to me? Sadly not and it still needs dealing with rather than denying.
So for every too-long stay in the back of the van on a festival site where the loos are awful and there are no showers, I DO think how it must be to be homeless and have no loo or shower let alone bedroom.
For all the time spent on the road and with clothes in a bag and a temporary bed, I thank God for those things just the same because I can't ignore the number of people with no homes at all let alone clothes and beds.
When I'm enduring the long haul to or from Spain in a trusty transit van, however tedious the journey and how much it affects me, I am painfully aware of the people in boats, on foot and illegally breaking into vehicles in search of safety or even just a fair chance of getting on.
When I contemplate the complexity of a dual country existence and ponder my long term future, restricted though the choices are by opportunity and mostly finance, I freely acknowledge and my heart bleeds for those forced to become stangers in a strange land, the refugees denied the label of "immigrant" much less "ex pat" and whose choices are much more stark and limited than mine.
What is happening to me is just a fragment of humanity in turmoil and I don't claim higher entitlement to sympathy at all. But I do need to connect with the rest of the world at times like this, to feel the unity of the human experience, which keeps us all aware that we are mostly the same and unites us even by common suffering to whatever degree. We all need to know it's not just us or we go mad.
So, I'm not complaining, just recounting it how it is. Stating facts. Repeating it anecdote style. If you can't feel any sympathy or empathy or even raise a half amused eyebrow or a smirk or a squirm of recognition, shame on you. And please don't judge, your own misfortune present past or future may pass the better for people reacting kindly rather than blaming you for having it.