I come from a family that prefers to complain.
Don’t get me wrong, they will never confess it.
They are under the impression that they are all incredibly tough and nothing can get to them, and however, if you make the mistake of telling them about something that is ailing you, you are about to get an earful about how excruciating their problems are. There’s no way that your troubles can begin to compare to how hard their lives are. It’s seriously maddening. It doesn’t matter if you are calling because you have a head cold or because your dog died – somehow it’ll be worse on their end; Recently, my Dad would not stop calling me to tell me all about how terrible the weather was in her area. She was completely aghast about the outdoor heat and humidity, and she was releasing some of the heat by venting at me. She kept telling me that the air conditioner was running harder than ever before. She insisted that she had never been so moderate and uncomfortable in her whole life. She wanted to turn off the central cooling system, even though she truthfully upset that she would never be able to sleep again. Instead, she was facing the reality of paying for a ridiculously high energy bill after all of this moderate weather. She rambled on and on about her heat and indoor cooling problems, while I sat silently back and let her complain about the temperature. I knew there was no point in reminding her that her heat and humidity did not unquestionably compare to my biweekly reality living in the deep south.