I don’t know what to make of the assumptions and attitude in this question. Is it a question from an envious person who is somewhat snappily asking us “what makes your life so perfect,” as if perfection is completely unreasonable? Or is it an innocent question that assumes everyone has a perfect life? Or finally, is it a somewhat humorous question, sort of tongue-in-cheek, with all of us knowing our lives really aren’t at all perfect?
Even if I could figure out what this question is really about, I’m still not sure what kind of answer is expected. Are we supposed to share tips for finding good things in our lives? Are we supposed to take a cynical approach? Frankly, I’m clueless as to all this.
My gut reaction was, “How dare you assume I have a perfect life!” Then I wanted to make the asker feel as guilty as possible by describing all the shit I’ve been through lately. My second reaction was to try to think how to reword the question in a way that isn’t so in-your-face. Of course, the third reaction is what you are reading.
There is no such thing as a perfect life. I don’t even know if there is a good life. Life is life, and if it becomes too painful, some people check out. Others struggle on. A lot of the ones who struggle past any obstacle have no idea how anyone could be in enough pain to want to die.
Frankly, I really resent those positivists, or whatever I should call them. I hate people judging how a life should be lived—what is perfect and what isn’t. I hate it because it leaves me out. My life doesn’t have a chance of even a flyby of such a thing.
What makes my life perfect [said with great disdain] is the opportunity to not hide myself. I get to show my warts and scars, and I get to complain and whine, and people accept that because they know what it’s like, and they know that I’m trying not to be a drag on others.
What makes my life perfect is that there is almost always a hole in my stomach that seems to be host to a school of piranhas. What makes my life perfect is that I have to take these pills twice a day that stare at me at dinner time just making fun of me. What makes my life perfect is that I would throw away every single pill bottle I have, except that I won’t do that to my wife and children.
But you know what? I’m not complaining. I’ve got a life. Yeah, it hurts, but think of the alternative!
