These days, it’s a rare occurrence for me to feel inner peace. I’m restless and cynical about everything and anyone. Ready to vent at the 1st sign of discontent. So disappointed with the loved ones I can’t bear to be in the same room with them. But there are moments, even hours, that go on unrecorded, undocumented when I feel bliss, contentment, and dare I say…happy. Today is one of those days.
I know I will probably change my mind come nightfall, when my mood shifts again like the tide and I remember all my husband’s faults, but in this moment, and since this morning, I feel happy, and it shows. I pick a fight when I feel I lack attention, but not today. Today I’m good, safe, tucked away in the corners of love and care and security. Today I look at my husbands face and think “he is a good man. He is my man, not in the possessive sense of the word, but in the sense that this is my person, my soulmate”.
So I just wanted to write this here, because it scares me. Yes, happiness scares me. My creativity bursts when I’m anxious and depressed. I have a flare for drama that shows in the way I itch for a fight. I’m drawn to conflict like a moth to a flame, yet run away from conflict like a bike on fire runs down a hill. Growing up in a dysfunctional home, happiness and peace are alien to me. We had and still have our moments of happiness, but they’re tarnished by the more deeply seated trauma that is triggered every so often. It’s like playing the game Operation. It keeps buzzing, my brain.
I’m an overthinker, and I even overthink my happiness. Do I deserve it? Is this real? How long will it last? I chase dopamine like I eat chocolate. I’m one step from snorting it. But right now, I’m happy, and I’m going to enjoy it!