writing to happy
I write my way to happy.
That is, the tsunami of misery for whatever will be washing over me but I'll focus on that one speck of bright, focusing as it grows bigger, bigger, bigger, bigger and bigger and then that's pretty much all I see as the misery part got lost in brightness.
This was harder - much harder - to do before I had kids.
But I'll never forget (quite) a few years ago when a coworker said, you are the happiest person I know! You are always smiling! I laughed... and in my head, HOLY SHIT! was bouncing around with some strength. Because at that point, I was pretty much a raving suicidal, chain-smoking, anorexic/bulimic alcoholic.
It wasn't that I was being fake. It wasn't that I was trying to hide how miserable I was. It was that in that moment of being of being with my coworker - or whomever - I was sincerely happy.
I don't know if this makes any sense. I'm just trying to explain my seemingly-freakish jumps that I make on this blog, from telling you about the heartbreak of a miscarriage/lost father/job to hey, look! SQUIRREL!
It's not that I don't feel it. It's that I need to find a joy-spot that I can focus on.
Thank God I have kids. They make it so much easier.