The Genetic Lottery

So, I like everybody else in the universe I have some diseases/disorders/conditions, whatever you want to call it, that I have… “inherited” from my family.  And when I have days like yesterday (the absolute worst ever); all I can do is sit back, give a big fat double fisted middle finger to the sky and in my head shout “F*CK YOU GENETIC LOTTERY, AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON!!!”

Because that’s what it is, right?  Your mom and dad have that special hug and then there’s a genetic pool from which the things that make you are drawn.  Hair color, eye color, skin color, hitch hiker thumb, curly tongue, height, gender, temperament, all the things that can be passed down from generation to generation.  Including things like cancer, diabetes, vision, mental illness, heart disease, hair loss/thickness/balding, and addiction.  Some things skip a generation, some things skip many generations, and some things hit every generation.

There are a lot of things I’m happy I ended up with.  I love my blue eyes and the compliments I get about them.  I love my thick hair!  Well, most of the time.  I love that I’m left handed like my grandma was (although I’m not sure if that one’s actually a genetic thing), that I can sing beautifully like my mother and grandfather, and like the rest of my family I’m highly intelligent.  These are the real wins in the genetic lottery; but when the darkness of depression takes over… those are the things I’m not so grateful for, and I like to joke that “the genetic lottery strikes again!” or “I won the genetic lotto again!”

Being self aware is generally a gift.  When you just want to die – when you want to drive into the median full speed or take all the pills in the house; knowing somewhere, deep inside you that eventually this will pass, that it could be five minutes or five days but it will stop – is the only thing that keeps you alive.

That, my special friends, and joking about the genetic lottery. 😉

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