Does Only Lewis Black Have a License to Complain?

As I've grown older, I've made a deliberate attempt to avoid or reduce the cynicism and pessimism with which I view the world and the probable motivations of other people (individual or in groups).  Recently, however, I've had to work harder at it and, frankly, it is making me tired.

I want to complain – to be cynical, pessimistic and even depressed.  Do I have to be funny to justify it?  I was talking with my mother and she's basically finding it hard to get out of bed, much less shower, dress and leave the house.  She's 73 years old and her health issues focus around osteoarthritis, fibromyalgia and degeneration in her lower back.  I've basically been feeling much the same.  I'm 53 years old and my health issues focus around fibromyalgia, IBS-D, sinus and migraine.  When I reflect, I have to consider that life is just finding ways to pass the time between birth and death.  Sometimes I fool myself that what I'm doing is worthwhile or at least productive and constructive rather than destructive.  More times, I don't.

Lewis Black, the comic, has taken this to new levels.  I love how he fails to filter what he says.  He's the voice of bleak black reason.  That degree of bleak honesty is hard to maintain in the real world and much less accepted in women.  I worry about appearing less than fully competent and self-sufficient.  I don't really care about outside judgements beyond that, but I don't want to appear weak.  Weakness is just that, providing a way for others to influence, judge, and manipulate you.  The more open you are, the closer they get, the better they are at it.

In conclusion, distractions are a necessary part of life.  Being self-sufficient is the goal.  Figuring out a way to function that minimizes cynicism, pessimism and depresion is the task.