Self Pity is Useless

I am far better than I’d like to be at pitying myself. When things don’t turn out the way I want, I get stuck with a bad case of woeismeosis, and wallow in it endlessly. Having lived such a privileged life where things by and large have been given to me on a silver platter, I’ve not put the effort into unlearning this behaviour yet that I need to.

But self pity is truly a useless emotion, at least in the quantities in which I partake in it. I think London makes that all the more apparent - here nothing is free, nobody owes you anything and you are nobody too, but equally you can have anything, do anything, be anything you want, if you put your mind to it.

For me it’s a little like mindfulness, but instead of every time I find my mind wandering I return to my breath, every time I find myself feeling sorry for myself I ask the question, “what am I going to do about it?”