Feelings

Can't you just hear Barry Manilow crooning the lyrics to the title of this post?  "Feeeeelings....wo-wo-wo...feelings...."   Sorry.  Couldn't resist.

If you've ever been told that you are entitled to your feelings, then perhaps you and/or the person that told you that can explain to me why I sometimes feel guilty for having feelings that I have but don't think I'm entitled to.  (That is a poorly constructed sentence that ended with a preposition.  Hey...I'm off duty as an English teacher today.) 

Let's see if I can make sense of that. 
Once in awhile, I get totally envious of people who win the lottery.  I mean, why couldn't that be me??  Well...it can't be me because I don't play the lottery.  Can't win if you don't play, right?  I've never been much of a risk-taker, and the odds of winning are so horrendous that buying tickets seems like flushing money down the toilet.  And I don't have money to flush.  Not playing is my choice, so why should I be jealous of those that do play and win?  See what I mean?  

There is a show on TV called Storage Wars, where people buy abandoned storage lockers at auction in the hope of finding treasures inside that they can resell for big bucks.  (Hate the show.  Don't watch it.)  I get angry at that whole scenario.  Yes, yes...I know that the storage bins have been abandoned--which means, essentially, that the renters stopped paying the monthly fee.  It doesn't, however, mean they stopped caring about the contents.  Think about it.  Why do people rent storage units?  Because they once had a house or apartment but had to move to other circumstances, requiring that they find a place to store their possessions until they have another place of their own.  I seriously doubt that anyone rents a unit and stashes their belongings in it with the intention of defaulting.  It usually means that they have fallen on hard times--don't have the money to continue paying, and have no other place to store their belongings--so the contents of the storage unit goes up for auction in order to make up for the lost revenue for the unit owners.  It's all on the up-and-up, but I still get angry about it.  To me, it seems like opportunistic vultures poring over the spoils of a kill; taking advantage of the unfortunate circumstances of others, but this is a consequence of life and not my place to get angry.  Right?

I have this feeling that I should be able to save the world.  If someone presents me with a problem, I feel as though I should be able to find a way to fix it.  I went racing to my sister's in January to help her out when she had "shingles"...thinking that my mere presence would help.  I think it did, some, but only because she had someone to assist with the things she didn't feel well enough to do.  I couldn't fix her pain.  Couldn't shorten the length of the illness.  Couldn't do anything right by my bro-in-law who has dementia.  I got frustrated with him...with her illness...with her daughters...although it wasn't my right.  I was mad because something came between me and my need to feel good.  Entitled?  I don't think so!  But that's the way I felt.  So I felt guilty for feeling what I felt.  Guilt: the gift that keeps on giving.

I could go on and on, but I'm aware that I'm rambling.  If you're still reading this, you're bored, too!