Were Nichiren in the SGI he would be vilified

Overcoming hardships is a major theme in Buddhism. How can one explain the process of overcoming hardships if one doesn't discuss the hardships? Openly discussing hardships in SGI is considered complaining and a sign of weak faith. Were Nichiren in the SGI he would be vilified for being negative and for expressing his feelings: 

‘My body is worn out and my spirit suffers from the daily debates, monthly persecutions, and two exiles. That is why for the last seven or eight years illnesses of aging have assailed me yearly, though none has led to a crisis’ (WND-2, 949).”

“The northern part is Mount Minobu, the southern, Mount Takatori, the western, Mount Shichimen, and the eastern, Mount Tenshi. They are like boards set up on all four sides. Around the outside of this area are four rivers. The Fuji River runs north to south and the Haya River runs west to east behind this area. In front is the Hakiri River, which runs west to east, and its tributary, which has a waterfall and is called the Minobu River. You might suppose that Eagle Peak had been moved from central India and set down here, or that Mount T’ien-t’ai had been brought from China. 

In the midst of these four mountains and four rivers is a flat area no broader than the palm of one’s hand, and here I have built a little hut to shield me from the rain. I have peeled bark off trees to make my four walls, and wear a robe made of the hides of deer that died a natural death. In spring I break off ferns to nourish my body, and in autumn I gather fruit to keep myself alive. But since the eleventh month of last year the snow has been piling up, and now, into the first month of the new year, it goes on snowing. My hut is seven feet in height, but the snow outside is piled up to a depth of ten feet. I am surrounded by four walls of ice, and icicles hang down from the eaves like a necklace of jewels adorning my place of religious practice, while inside my hut snow is heaped up in place of rice. 

Even in ordinary times people seldom come here, and now, with the snow so deep and the roads blocked, I have no visitors at all. So at the moment I am atoning for the karma that destines me to fall into the eight cold hells, and, far from attaining Buddhahood in this present life, I am like the cold-suffering bird. I no longer shave my head, so I look like a quail, and my robe gets so stiff with ice that it resembles the icy wings of the mandarin duck. 

To such a place, where friends from former times never come to visit, where I have been abandoned even by my own disciples, you have sent these vessels, which I heap with snow, imagining it to be rice, and from which I drink water, thinking it to be gruel. Please let your thoughts dwell on the effects of your kindness. There is much more I would like to say.”