some thoughts on happiness

Ok, my blog has been mostly pictures with quotations recently featuring me drunk. I suppose this is a reflection of the way my life has been going, therefore my blog has been honest, it hasn't been deep and intellectual for the sake of being deep and intellectual. This also means I haven'’t written much in the past little while and my brain is feeling mushy and under used; my vocabulary is slipping away from me, my logic and thought processes have gone out the window and I generally feel rusty.

My life has been pretty great, I have hung out with friends, seen and done loads of new things and I have been generally happy. Today I started to think about my state of well being and I think that, that is what I'm going to write about.

For those of you who may have read my blog or who know me may know I was not always this happy, content and comfortable with myself, with my oddities. I went through a time that began almost 3 years ago where I was not happy with myself, was not comfortable with who I was and tried to hide my oddities; tried to hide myself, tried to become what I thought was right. I tumbled in slow motion down a circular staircase, losing a piece of who I was with each bump until I landed at the bottom a hollow lump of a person. Not myself, only my shell in a crumpled heap. I was not brave, I did not hold opinions, I could not tell you what I liked and disliked, I sat silently at social gatherings not knowing what to say, not thinking what I had to say mattered. I had no feeling, no passion, I was apathetic ... I was nothing. I was scared, terrified of dealing with things that should have been dealt with before. Issues that I had no time to deal with or had been rushed through not giving them the time they disserved. Excitement made me think it was ok, that I was ok. When I hit the bottom, landed in that heap, I didn'’t not like who I had become, this apathetic nothing. It was not the fault of those who witnessed it, it was the fault of those who made me that way; those who came before, who restricted me, controlled me, who treated me like I was nothing. Those who told me my opinions were wrong and my tummy was too round. I was left at the bottom, my hollow crumpled shell, I was left alone, I had to be.

I had to be made to pick myself up and slowly being to crawl up that staircase by myself. Slowly picking up the pieces that were me, replacing them as I ascended, leaving ones behind that I no longer needed or wanted. Resting to fine tune some parts, to improve them make them part of a better me. I am here now at the top of that staircase again, a better me. A me who has opinions, who has likes and dislikes, who (I'’m sure a few of you wish) would sit silently at social gatherings. I have feelings, I have passion (although there is always room for more), I am no longer apathetic and I even have a few hobbies. The me at the top has been stuffed full of feelings, opinions, thoughts, likes, dislikes, words, wonder, confidence, self-worth. I am not a nothing anymore. I am not scared of who I am or who I may become. I even talk to strangers occasionally! I love who I am, I love my oddities; they should never be hidden. I am glad I had to climb back up by myself; I don'’t think I would have done it if I had help. Although I did have help, help that was greatly appreciated and will never be forgotten. I will be there to help you as you helped me. Thank you.