I should be happy. I have all my physical body parts in good working order, a place to sleep at night, living nuclear family members, a small rainy day fund, okay clothes, and a fridge stuffed with rotten food that I don't like.
But I don't have my mental health, success, or best friends. Everyone around me has these things. So it's not weird that I'm randomly distraught a lot of the time. Also, I always surround myself with people better than I am in hopes of bettering myself, but all this really accomplishes is a good ego beating every time I have to see these people. Okay, I can't be as cool as those rich bastards. I liked to believe that my family wasn't very poor, but apparently it is. Here, I see grad students living in luxury apartments, which I didn't even realize existed, to the tune of 2k-5k/mo. Alrighty then. Those rich bastards better do well. They have no reason not to.
Also my family has a lot of drama. I moved away so now they have to work to keep me updated with it. There's a reason I never call, and I'm definitely not going to call separately for each parent just because they split up. I can't tell them anything anyway without bad things happening. My crappy childhood wasn't even that crappy, yet it caused so much damage that I am writing stupid angsty things on a 8 year old livejournal all the time.