But what I noticed this time was me. Photos of me from back then show me looking happy, and I haven’t been happy in a long time.
No, I’m not unhappy right now, but happy is not exactly a word I’d use to describe myself at this moment in time.
I’m snarky and I like making people laugh, and I even join in with the laughter, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy. It’s actually pretty easy to make others laugh when I’m miserable.
There are specific things and people that make me happy at particular moments in time, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy. They provide me a respite, but I’d like it to last longer.
I’ve achieved certain things that satisfy me and make me feel good about myself, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy.
The pictures of me holding my children, posing with my husband, doing things with my family show how happy I was back then.
And I’m trying to get to that point again now.
I’ve made some changes already and I’m headed in the right direction. I’m spending more time with my family and less time with people who upset me. I’m spending more time getting my own things done and less time working on things that used to bring me satisfaction but now bring me frustration.
I’m trying to picture my life doing less stressful things, yet still being filled with meaningful things. I’m writing more and feeling more satisfied than I have in a long time.
I’m not sure what other changes I’ll be making, or where I’m going from here. It may be that I just needed a break and I’ll jump back into things in a few weeks and be fine. On the other hand, I may need to make some major changes going forward. I haven’t yet decided.
I just know things can’t stay the same. I’ve been reminded of the happy me and I miss her.