Comparison is the thief of joy

I do a lot of comparing in my life... and it makes me miserable. Because there is ALWAYS someone who has more, who has it better, who has what you don't have, who is more, and so on.

I am envious to people who have children. Really, really badly envious. I wanted to become a mother, and have at least 7 kids. Already as a 16-years-old I didn't even think of a future without children. Now I'm living that future. Without children... I am very badly prepared for this life.

I am envious to people who can afford doing things I can't. When I was young, all the classes at the "työväenopisto" or "kansalaisopisto" were either free or really cheap. Now they are all more expensive than I can comfortably pay. (Or at least are here in Sweden.)

I am envious to people who have money to buy certain things... like something as simple and common like down jacket. Or iPod and all kinds of apps. Or running shoes. But the down jacket... it's like a symbol of everything "normal" people have, everything everyone else have, but I don't. A symbol of everything that separates me from "normal" people. The good people...

I am envious to people who have a house, and who manage to keep it clean. Wooden floors...  *sigh*
I am so envious, so that I get a nasty, hateful feeling in my guts when I see photos of someone's home, which they own, and which is clean and new and not worn out, stained, broken, shabby, like my own home... even when the home is really ugly and shows clearly that the owner has a really bad taste and no sense of beauty. And not much personality to speak about, either.

I mean... really stupid, silly, petty stuff like that.

I am envious to people who have a good self-esteem.
I am envious to people who weren't neglected or bullied as kids.
I am envious to people who have friends.
I am envious to people who are not afraid of people