“Trouble is darlin’ I’m so exhausted–“

I have this fear, now that I am not a person defined by tragedy and depression, that if I let sadness and disappointment show it will somehow invalidate everything I’ve ever said about life being good.

As if everyone will suddenly turn to me and say “Aha!  I knew you were just blowing sunshine up our asses!  See, life is pain and it never really gets better.”

And I will hang my head and say nothing because I don’t have the strength or the moral authority to do otherwise.

“See,”  they will say, “it was just a phase.  Just hormones.  Your happiness isn’t real.”

And next time I say that every moment is a gift they’ll just nod and smile and disregard me.

I don’t know how rational this fear is.  Probably not at all.

Comes of being a cynic, and associating with cynics, I suppose.

The thing is I know I will have joy again.  It’s only a matter of time.  For now I am allowing myself to feel unhappiness.  Or to wallow, if you prefer.

I want to say “this is not me” but it really is.  And so is this.

“–call it the shadow of myself…”

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  1. There’s nothing wrong with showing sadness; ups and downs are perfectly normal. If you’re happy all the time it’s probably a sign that you’re building a bomb with which to destroy the world.

  2. It’s Irrational…

    How else can you tell if you are truly happy if you don’t also have times of sadness.

    Pain defines its lack.

    On a different level.. a good life must include some sadness, I would argue.. to be complete, we must experience not just eternal bliss…

  3. I know exactly what you mean.

    I am happy with my choices. I am happy with my life.

    But if life gets difficult, if you start to crumble under pressure, if you need someone to help with the emotional burden, then perhaps it means that you are not happy with your choices, that you made mistakes, that anyone you ever hoped would learn from the example of your dedication to Life with a capital L was gypped.

    The people above are wrong. This does happen. It happens to me every time I show a few cracks. “If you’re so perfect and your life is so good, then why come crying to me now? I can’t/won’t help you until you admit that you’re just a miserable human just like me.”

    So I rail against it alone. “No, you’re wrong. I’m not contained by my nature. I am more. I have a purpose. I have a hero’s soul.”

    The cost is high, but then you knew that, didn’t you?

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