It is surprisingly difficult to write about happiness, especially your own. This year I wanted to work on my happiness, I wanted to work on being happy. It is something I struggle with, my emotions are out of control, I worry about everything. I let things that are out of my control get to me.
I always think that there is someone out there who has it worse, and they are happy so why can’t I? I’m sitting here, with food, with money, with an education, and I’m not. I think I make problems out of nothing, and when I lose my breath and start crying over that nothing … I think I’m overreacting. I never jump to mental health, that is the last thing that comes to my mind.
I initially thought I would try talking to someone about it … a therapist. I’ve done it before but I ended up making up problems and dreading the minutes that go by. Those sixty minutes would drag on. Instead of talking about my actual problems, I lied. I was scared I wasn’t ready for a possible diagnosis, I wasn’t ready to share my truth, so I lied. I gossiped with her about trivial problems, and she never saw threw it. She believed everything I said, and was great at talking, but I didn’t solve anything. I’m not ready to be truthful with someone.
So instead of finding another therapist, I’m creating this blog. I’m going to take the time to write about things that make me happy, things that make me smile. Instead of worrying, I’m going to focus on being happy.
Be happy first.