I call it "griping," because that's the word my mother used. "Celie Ann, stop your griping and make your bed. It's not going to make itself."
To be fair and also to defend myself, I most often complain when hunger strikes me. Maybe I have low blood sugar or something, but if I'm hungry, don't push me. All my friends know this."Uh-oh, feed her so she'll shut up."
As a general rule, I'm not a complainer...much. Most of the time I do it out of boredom or to make conversation or some other inane reason.
A couple of years ago, my friend gave me a purple bracelet--one of those rubber ones that make a statement--that reads, "A Complaint Free World." The bracelet was to remind the wearer not to complain. If you found yourself grumbling, then you were obligated to switch the bracelet to the other wrist. Well, the bracelet kept me busy with the switching. Several of us wore them for a while, enough for us to realize how much we complained in the course of a day.
I learned that complaining, though, is not all bad. It can actually be a creative act. The more you complain, the more you summon your creative energies to attract something to complain about. Maybe the complaints seem fully justified, but realize that whenever you complain, you set yourself up for more of the same. Just remember the part about "complaining is a creative act", and you might find yourself writing a novel. Hmmm.
Complaining is the act of reinforcing what you don’t want. Is this bad? I think not. Perhaps it's therapeutic.
A warning: Complaining is also addictive. The more you do it, the more it becomes an ingrained habit, making it more difficult to stop.
Some people complain too much about their own lives. This is a trap that gives this person a constant source of something to complain about. "Bad luck follows me; Life is too difficult; Why can't I get a break?" The complainer may tell you their reality is causing their complaints, but it’s more accurate to say their reality is reflecting their complaints.
"If you have time to whine and complain about something then you have the time to do something about it." ~Anthony J. D'Angelo, The College Blue Book
Do I complain? Yes, but after analyzing myself, I believe I complain about trivial events that really have nothing to do with me. When I fully realized this, I honestly try to keep my mouth closed and push the ugly thoughts away.
We have a neighbor who refuses to mow his property, so that the tall dead grass is a permanent fixture. I say something about that every time we pass the house. It has nothing to do with my life, it just annoys me. So, why do I persist in complaining about it? The time has come for me to ignore it.
Bad parkers really make me complain. You who know me understand I sort of go ballistic over a vehicle parked diagonally in a straight-in space, a driver in front of me who sits at a green light because he/she is on the phone or texting, or someone who throws litter out a car window. I really don't think I can stop complaining about these....sorry.
I wonder if any of my characters complain? Only one comes to mind...Cynthia Harrington, the heroine in my very first book, All My Hopes and Dreams, the socialite who decides to run away from her banker father because he has arranged a marriage for her.
~*~*~*~If I’d known running away would be this hot and this dirty, she fumed, I’d have stayed home. With her dainty lace handkerchief, Cynthia Harrington dabbed the perspiration from her upper lip. She sighed heavily for the one-hundredth time today and impatiently brushed the dust from the skirt of her best lavender day dress.
THANK YOU FOR VISITING TODAY---
Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas