I’m not happy.
I mean, sometimes I am. Several times a day. That’s a lot of happy, probably. And I have the strongest impulse to tell myself and anyone else who cares to ask and every invisible person on the internet that I’M SUPER. But lately, when I’m alone and without distraction, I just feel sad.
I’m so afraid to be negative. I hate that part of me. And when I engage in hating myself it makes me hate that I hate myself which, shockingly, does not improve things.
I’m not exactly where I want to be. I’m struggling financially. Not unfamiliar territory. Easy to feel beaten down, I suppose.
When I try and just sit with myself, like I’ve been doing most of this day thanks to the aesthetically pleasing snow storm, I don’t feel content. I don’t feel relaxed, despite not expending any energy on anything at all productive, I’m tired.
Obviously, I know what this is. It doesn’t take my
useless B.A. in psychology to name it. And I’ve been in this place before. And it’s not bad.
I mean, it is not pleasant, but it’s hardly like the world is crashing down on me.
I just want to happier. I remind myself and I’m grateful for everything wonderful in my life. And that helps.
Whatever part my brain chemicals or personality may play in this, fucking believe me, I would never feel this depressed again if I won the lottery tomorrow.