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Felt like writing, read at leisure. Or don't, doesn't really matter. Going for longest Hangouts post ever. And on a phone, too. For a being fortunate enough to be born into a society of the most blessed people on this earth, there should be no reason to complain. In a place where any necessity or desire can be met, there should be no envy or greed. So my question is, "How?" How can any one of these fortunate individuals find life to be anything less than utterly fulfilling? As it turns out, many of these blessed souls, perhaps even most, find life in such a wonderful place to be of a dastardly nature. Even when billions of others so strongly desire to live such a luxurious life, how can anyone be dissatisfied with such a wonderful state of being? Well, it truly depends on the person and the circumstances they are put through, or even willingly subject themselves to. As for me, I daresay I was raised to be one of the most fortunate souls ever to walk the planet. My early life was one of ease and contentment. As a young child, I was catered to by my loving, overly-pampering grandparents on my father's side. Anything I desired, I was given. I was always a shy boy, though around my grandparents, I was "spoiled rotten" as they would tell me. Though, from my current perspective as it has grown to be, I was a greedy child who never considered the contentment of those closest to me. At some point after my grandmother's sister died (my great aunt that I was so attached to), I came to the realization that I truly WAS spoiled, and I expected so much from those around me. . At this point, I decided to change things. I found myself guilty for the greed that I possessed, and desired to make up for the child I was by becoming a better boy, and eventually a better man. I began to think of others and their desires. I became a great proponent of the "Golden Rule." I placed others in a position before me in virtually every situation. I was still shy, but behind the shyness, I respected everyone else and placed their desires above my own. I developed humility, honesty, and kindness for which I was known for the duration of high school. My martial arts instructor always bragged about my patience in even tough teaching situations, which I was afraid to accept due to the humility I had acquired. Any time that someone praised me, I felt ashamed to accept it, and I built my character with selflessness in mind. This feeling still sits inside me, somewhere, as I feel guilty right now even typing this. That is who I was, and that was who I wanted to be. The guy who does big things, but never accepts the praise for his accomplishments. Sometimes I think I still feel this way, and I hope others can see it through my actions at least occasionally. . Unfortunately, life has a way of throwing elbows at players. And life has no teammates, so all people are at risk of being fouled during the game. I am no exception. My life, and to a greater extent, my persona that I wanted to remain acceptable in my critiquing eyes, took a drastic turn as high school wound down and college began. . For three years, I watched my mother drift away from the family unit through a progression of outlets. At first she became absorbed with the fish in the aquarium we bought for my little brother. At first, it seemed innocent enough, with a slight increase of interest in the fish. But it progressed to the point where she would seemingly ignore the rest of us entirely. This continued for some time, until the fish tank eventually became an aquatic sarcophagus that could not be returned to an effective living estate. At this point, the focus shifted elsewhere, eventually finding a spot in Facebook where it would sit until the February of my senior year. She became close with many friends from her past, and shared her struggles with them and shut us out further. A number of these friends suggested that she stop living in misery and start chasing happiness of her own. I will admit that you only go around the track once, so the trip should not be an unhappy one. However, after a long battle with employment at various workplaces, she walked out, leaving us to fend for ourselves. . I should also mention that my father is disabled. Due to unfortunate genetics, he was cursed with a degenerating spine, which eventually culminated in his inability to work anymore. This turn of events took place about 12-15 years ago if I'm not mistaken, as the years fly by extraordinarily quickly when you pray for a blessing that never comes. We all hoped that he would get better, but to this day, he suffers in pain without respite, though he does his best to make the situation better. However, all of his attempts were not enough to persuade my mother to stay by him and by us to help us survive. . With my father's disability, his income decreased to measly pocket change compared to what he should have been receiving. This was due mainly to the fact that the insurance company used the time he tried to work part-time after his back went out as a loophole which allowed them to pay him less money than he deserved and needed. Moral of the story, if you hurt yourself, don't give anyone a reason to think you aren't hurt. This left my mother as the only one to bring in any money for the family, and when she left us, things became even harder for us to scrape by. This isn't to mention the hole we found ourselves in when she was bouncing between jobs at the end. . Despite the financial bind we were in, I had managed to gain scholarships that allowed me to go to Clemson and not have to worry about money. Sure, I didn't have a lot of money to actually play with, but it was enough to live comfortably. This was in addition to a fund provided over the course of 18 years by my grandparents (God bless them). Well, though I have been able to live off of my financial aid, my family's predicament has only worsened over time. My father has continually worked and done the best he can given his wreck of a body (because the back was only the beginning) to provide for the four of us: my brother and I, my grandmother, and himself. No matter what he does, it seems as though there is no way out of this terrible state. . On many occasions, he has asked me if I could let him borrow money to pay our bills. On each occasion, I have given him some of my money. He tells me he will pay it back, though I don't really expect him to, and I try to think of it as my way of helping out the war effort while I'm away. How can I refuse the man who every day fights the toughest battle of fear, anger, resentment, depression, sadness, and a host of other difficult emotions just to keep a roof over my brother's head? . While this has occurred over the past three years, I have gone through changes of my mental state that bother me greatly. I have grown impatient waiting for things to change and for my mother to come to her senses, though it likely will never happen. I have grown angry because everything is falling apart at the seams. I have grown tired of lying awake at night worrying about how things will work out, how one day I may be able to make the problems go away, how I consider my mother to be dead and replaced with this poser, and how I resent her. But most importantly, I've grown sad. Sad about all of those things above, and sad about the person I have become. I have become filled with greed, envy, and a desire for things to be like they were before. I still feel guilty for wanting something nice for Christmas, even if I have to pay for it myself, because my family needs the money more than I do. But I've gotten to the point where I want to drop the baggage, all the hate and sadness, and live life the way I want to live it. Like my mother has done. And that scares the ever-living hell out of me. . At Thanksgiving today, I had to spend time with my mother. It isn't anything I'm not used to anymore, just a lingering resentment in the back of my mind every time I think of her or see her face. However, I essentially asked her tonight if she could help me buy an expensive item for Christmas. Her reply was basically that this was not possible this time, as she was very right on money as well. I figured as much, despite the fact that she doesn't provide us with any money unless my father breaks down and has to borrow it from her. I discussed this with my father, which ended up in an argument about responsibilities, resulting in nothing but more resentment for him and for her. . This struggle has been going on for three years, and I'm losing my ability to cope with it. Though I would never consider suicide (it would be easier for me, but it would devastate them), I can't seem to find a way to fix this situation. Even though my father tells me that it is not my place to do so, I cannot help but feel guilty for not being able to help and for becoming so tired of this. I can't remove from the back of my mind that I an partly to blame for the way things are now. Though I know I'm not the cause of this rift, I realize that I did nothing to prevent this from happening when my mother started to slip away. . It's times like this when I think about the arguments Jesse and I had. He said that I was an angry, ungrateful, uncaring individual, among other things. Maybe he is right, after all. It's hard to think that two friends with such similar backgrounds could collide so badly. Regardless, when people say something to me like, "You're a saint," I can't accept it. Years ago, it would be due to humility, I believe. But now, it is because I genuinely don't deserve a title such as that. Please forgive me, because I am not worthy of the friendship you guys, especially you, have given me. What I can truly say that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving is a group of people that can overlook my flaws and treat me like I'm normal. At least to my face, that is. What gets said about me behind closed doors is none of my business, and I probably deserve it anyway, so I can't even be mad at that.