Monday, 21 September 2015

The Silent Destroyer

I would consider myself a pretty happy person if I'm honest. A little highly strung. A bit of a control freak. Massively over-dramatic. But a good person. My flair for the dramatic is something that can be verified by a few people, most likely my sisters and a couple of ex-boyfriends. The people closest to me generally know how to deal with me. I think it's important to have people in your life who know how to deal with you. I wake up in the morning feeling grateful. And lucky. And I constantly remind myself that I have so much to be grateful about. I think this is the key to being happy. 

But I wasn't always happy and some years ago I had a dark period. It's not something I think about much these days. My way of dealing with an acute amount of confusion and misery was erratic and hard to understand (think Britney but with more hair). But I got through it. Some relocation, a couple of bouts of counselling, a bit of  self-discovery and a kid all brought me to the person I am here today.

A happy one.

When you've been unlucky enough to dip your toes in the waters of 'unhappiness' for a prolonged period of time you become a slightly different person as a result. You become scared. You get up every single morning and you remember your're happy and you think 'thank god for that'. Which makes you grateful. Which makes you happy. It's like a gift. Something that should be treasured.

 But something that could be snapped away from you at any second. And so you are humble and grateful for your happiness but you are also alert and wary. At the back of your mind a nagging feeling always stays with you. What if I go back to that place? I'm lucky that this hasn't happened. Not in a long time. And I believe I am hugely responsible for that fact.  I have designed a life I love and I make no apologies for embracing the smugness that comes with adoring the structures I have built around myself. 

The feelings I associated with being 'unhappy' were probably not dealt with properly. I know that somewhere deep inside my mind they have been put in a filing cupboard and locked away. Double locked. With an extra padlock. Because it's a route of self-discovery I don't feel the need to go down. But sometimes when even a tiny scrap of these feelings are brought to the surface - I panic. It's like I imagine drowning to feel like. That panic. That desperate feeling of gasping for air but knowing you are going down. It's a sense of abandonment. Of rejection. Bewilderment. 

Lack of control makes me scared. And it's something I should probably deal with. And maybe I will.

One day.

But today I think I will just be happy.

1 comment:

Penny said...

I love this post so, SO much and I identify with it hugely. Having been rock bottom in the past, now that I'm happy and content, I with a near-constant fear of it all being ripped away from me. Sometimes it leaves me short of breath when my brain decides to remind me that nothing is set in stone and I'm not guaranteed anything forever. It's good to hear that I'm not alone, we're all our own worst enemies at times. xx