Social Question

liminal's avatar

Have you ever had anything 'get better'?

Asked by liminal (7769points) October 20th, 2010

I’ve been following the “it gets better project”: http://www.itgetsbetterproject.com/ geared towards LGBTQ youth. I find myself hoping all sorts of people will participate and watch. So, I suppose, this question is part shameless plug.

On the other hand, I find myself thinking about all youth (and even some of us adults) who are living life situations that can feel oppressive at times. It makes me want to hear everybody’s story of experiencing something getting better.

Do you have a story about something in your life that got better?

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13 Answers

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seazen's avatar

@liminal First of all, kudos on a thought-provoking, and well crafted question. My vote for Q of the day.

I do think things get better, and moreover, thinking they will puts you in a positive frame of mind for them to happen – and for one to recognize when it happens.

If one stays depressed, down and feeling sorry for oneself, they are less likely to
see/feel/experience an opportunity when it comes knocking on their door.

Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity – and one should try to prepare – even if it’s only emotionally. Luck will eventually come along.

And it’s an important, and not the least bit shameless, plug.

:-)

john65pennington's avatar

First, this an excellent question. this answer is not about me, but rather a childhood friend of my son.

They grew up together. they played football together in the park. my wife and i were friends with his parents for years.

Then, this happened: his younger brother fell out of an open van sliding door and was killed instantly. his father told him, “i wish this could have been you”. this boy was 14 years old and his fathers word struck him like a daggar. he went off on the deep end and burglarized three houses in his neighborhood. i answered the call and i guess this was just meant to be for me to be there. i knew the background of this boy and that he was a great kid. no problems and no trouble with the police. i went to his defense. i talked to the burglarized victimes and explained the situation. all three victimes agreed not to prosecute, if i could get the boy some psychological help and time away from his father. i went to the DA and located a boys camp, just perfect for this situation. he grew his own food, cut his own wood and had camp chores. this was for two years. when he was 22 years old, i had a tap on my shoulder. it was him. he wanted to introduce his family to me. he pulled me off to the side and thanked me for helping him get his life back together. needles to say, i was proud. proud of him, not me.

This is a classic case of being a mentor to someone’s life, when they are down. some good, some really good, came from this situation.

Nullo's avatar

My first several months in Italy were very difficult. I didn’t speak the language, I didn’t really know anybody, it was always cold, we had no car (all grocery shopping was by bike, using backpacks to carry things), my classmates were farther ahead in school than I was, and we were kind of in the middle of nowhere.
Seven months later, I could hold a conversation, I was nearly caught up academically, I had been taught actual, useful art techniques, summer had arrived, we had a car. And we had integrated, sorta.

I will not be following your link, you shameless plugger. So there! :P

YARNLADY's avatar

Yes, I lived for many, many years believing there was something wrong with me, because I got teased at school all the time, and because I didn’t feel the presence of God like the rest of my family seemed to.

I was very sad, and didn’t enjoy life at all. Even getting married didn’t trn that around, because now, it was him and me both feeding each others pain. Then my first son was born.

That baby was so perfect, so healthy, so wonderful, I resolved to be the kind of mother he deserved. My whole life changed at that time.

MacBean's avatar

Things don’t get better. You get better.

muppetish's avatar

No one can overplug Dan Savage’s project. The support network he has created is beautiful.

I was not a happy child. I went through bouts of depression because I was convinced that everybody hated me (especially me – I hated myself.) I was told I would go to hell by people who referred to themselves as my friends. I was told my mother was evil. I faced a mix of racism and ignorance from people regarding my mixed heritage. I was teased about my appearance, for crying, being a “teacher’s pet”, being nice. It seemed as though nothing I could do would ever permit me to fit in. That I was doomed to be ostracized forever.

But I refused to change.
And I learned to love myself.
And, eventually, I found people who appreciated me for me.

There are plenty of cruel, petty, mean-spirited people in the world… but there are also many compassionate, loving, supportive people. We have to keep listening for those people.

RealEyesRealizeRealLies's avatar

i got better. i’m getting better. i better.

crisw's avatar

Again, kudos to Dan Savage.

I was a pretty tormented kid- constantly teased and bullied for being too smart and too weird. I blossomed in college, where I found true friends for the first time. It did get better.

downtide's avatar

Yes it does. I was bullied all through childhood and was chronically and severely depressed until around the age of 35. It wasn’t until I’d accepted what I am that I realised what had been causing it all along.

Austinlad's avatar

An Illness or injury can get better, and because of that, one’s entire mental outlook. Decades ago I developed a back problem so severe that I couldn’t get out of the bed for a period of time. My job suffered, my finances suffered, my relationships suffered, partly because of the physical pain, but more because of the mental pain of feeling I depressed and fatalistic. But I had great doctors, and as my back improved, everything else in my life improved.

basstrom188's avatar

No it can only get worse

downtide's avatar

Everything in my life got better when I stopped trying to pretend to be someone I’m not.

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