Girl, Interrupted.

“Our life is what our thoughts make it.”

-     - Marcus Aurelius

I was watching some daft "news" programme the other day. It was very dull, but a certain segment caught my attention; it was about the 'entitled' attitude people now possess. Apparently we are living in a time where manners are considered a thing of the past. We're permanently stressed, rushed and want things NOW, NOW, NOW! We want to lose weight instantly, we want to be served in a cafe instantly, and we obviously have no time to wait. Who can be bothered with 'old-fashioned' pleasantries anymore?

While I did find myself blinking lazily at what passes for journalism nowadays, I did agree with this ‘report’ to a certain extent. However, I also believe it is a tad unfair to claim the majority of us are no longer courteous or polite. Based on my own behaviour and what I've seen from my friend's interactions with other life forms, we do still have manners and are willing to chat (not with creepy taxi drivers, for good reason) with others, but this particular social commentary caused my thoughts to stray a bit (as television usually does) to something I had been pondering for a while now.

Entitlement. What we expect from people, from life in general and what we believe we deserve. I have been very unhappy recently, for numerous reasons, some old and some new. This idea of entitlement though has given me a new perspective; it has interrupted my self-pity and loathing, and twisted those thoughts into something new.

When I am at my worst, when bad things happen (within and outside of my control), I tend to fall back on that childish question ‘why do bad things happen to good people?’ Not that I would be so arrogant as to call myself a good person, but in some cases where I cannot find a reason for the circumstances or the treatment I have received, I can be the ‘good’ person in the equation.

When bad things happen, that I do not understand, I give up on trying for some time. Trying to fit in, trying to be social (I’m an introvert, it’s a struggle), trying to be happy or to make others happy. The cynical side comes forth to protect me and asks, ‘why bother with everything and everyone, when all you get in return is pain and suffering?’ I have used that as an excuse, so many times during my life, to not interact with people and the rest of the world. During those times I believe I am merely protecting myself from everything outside. I cannot control what goes on out there, but I can certainly control my emotions and myself if there are no external forces acting upon my person.

There is of course, a great flaw in this plan of mine. Those sorts of questions and that attitude completely close you off from everything and everyone around you. Yes, you may limit pain and suffering through self-imposed isolation, but you are also blocking out all sources of happiness too. It's like closing your curtains or blinds during the nighttime to rest and not opening them in the morning, not experiencing the sunlight of a new day.

I would never simply say depression is an attitude problem (like so many do), that’s misinformed, condescending and hurtful for those who struggle with such an illness. I can say though, from my own experience, that it is very easy to be self-pitying, hating the world for causing you pain or for being unfair, but it's much harder and more rewarding, to look past that and focus on what makes you happy. The world has never truly been unkind to you; it's a neutral party in the politics of living. It is people who are unfair or unkind. It’s people, you and those you choose to surround yourself with, that are the greatest sources of unhappiness.

We all feel entitled to an extent, to receive kindness and love unconditionally, not taking into account that at times, we may not deserve such treatment. When you feel that way, that people owe you something, that life owes you something better than what you have, you can never be truly happy. Why should life reward you when you have not tried or when you have not made the effort to be happy? Don’t expect nothing though, have standards and boundaries (those are good things), but you cannot expect happiness to be given to you on a silver platter.

Happiness in my opinion, is not something that is ready-made, it’s something that is created; it’s born from many things. For me, it’s mostly my friendships with others that make me happy. Learning one of my best friends Vicky got a new job made me happy, seeing my eldest sister and hearing about her dreams for the future made me happy and talking to my friend Tim always makes me happy. All of that joy that I have received from those interactions, wasn’t because I was ‘entitled’ to it, but because I participated in life, and with people who make me truly happy.

I have no doubt that I will probably lose this perspective at some point and wallow in unhappiness again for a while, but it is my hope in writing this (while the thoughts are still fresh), that maybe, just maybe, I’ll look back on this and remember that my cure is to be alongside the people who mean the world to me. We’re not entitled to anything, we have to be living, to be a participant, to receive and experience the true beauty of life.

It’s like the Professor Jagger once said, ‘you can’t always get what you want, but if you try some times, you get what you need’.

P.S Thank you to Channel 7 for being so lousy. I had to go out into the world and be happy to escape the sheer amount of stupidity being broadcasted.

That which has quelled me, lives with me, but I'm still happy.

“Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I'm one of them.” 
― Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine

I woke up this morning and felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was devoid of sadness, happiness, hunger, thirst, I wasn't even content or worried about feeling nothing. When I was a kid and this happened, I would stay in bed and try to concentrate very hard, staring at the ceiling, until something came to me. I don't do that anymore, I just get out of bed and get on with living.

You make breakfast, shower, ask yourself "do I feel anything yet?...Nope, not yet, just keep going."

By the time I was out and about I did feel something though, it amazed me. It was like waking up and opening your eyes to everything around you. Most people go through their routines everyday, most of us never stop and look around because we've seen it, we appreciated it once upon a time, why bother doing that everyday? But I did this morning, I did stop with my coffee and soak up the feeling of the sunshine on my back, the breeze ruining my hair and the comings and goings of other people in the coffee shop and I realised I was actually alive.

That sounds ridiculous, how can anyone forget they're alive right? I don't mean it like that, I know I'm breathing, but being alive and actually living are two separate things. I mean I realised I was in fact living my life, just like all those other people around me. I wanted to pull out my notebook and write things down that I noticed, until I remembered I gave up the habit of carrying my notebook when I gave up the goal of becoming a writer. Still, the memory is a like a digital camera, if a bit faulty at times.

I'm rambling slightly, but what I am trying to get at is the fact that yes, I am alive and living today. I just needed to stop and look around. People like myself spend so much time with their heads in the past, avoiding the present and never daring to look into the future, that's no-man's land, that we let life pass us by most of the time.

It came as a shock to me to realise today, that when I felt the sunshine, tasted my coffee, listened to other people grumbling with morning grogginess, that I was happy to be there. Doing something so completely normal that we don't stop and think about it for a second, but it made me happy. For the first time in months, I felt every part of me was functioning. Not like days of staying in bed and thinking your heart is beating too slowly or not at all, or being so anxious your heart beat can be heard in your ears or threatens to explode out of your chest, this was the normal thump-thump of every day living.

Despite what a lot of people think about me, I am capable of happiness. Lots of things bring me joy like walking into a store and hearing an old song I used to play over and over and then I forgot about it, learning new random facts and passing them on, running into someone I haven't seen in a long time or simply talking about ridiculous things with friends into the early hours of the morning. All of those things make me joyful. I just forgot about them or simply wasn't paying attention.

This is as much a reminder to myself as it is to people who know me. Today I am happy, I am living and I am fully aware of everything around me. It's a great endorphin rush. I've spent months wondering what it was that I had lost, what it was that I had done to lose my grip on my own happiness. It's not from a lack of trying to be happy or trying to think "positive thoughts." A lot of people think others who are depressed or appear to be sulking are apparently not thinking enough about their lives or their problems. People couldn't be more wrong. It's the exact opposite, I spend too much time thinking and then over thinking every single little thing, until thinking begins to drive me crazy. We're not lazy thinkers, but we focus on the wrong sorts of things.

I think today I realised something important. I didn't lose my happiness or the ability to feel (which I thought many times), I buried it, along with the notions of living, too caught up in everything going wrong, in other people's disasters and too focused on pain. I also have a terrible habit of letting unkind words or other people's actions ruin my days. I remember once a friend asked me what I thought my worst trait was and I didn't hesitate, obsessiveness. When obsessiveness is one of your most dominating personality traits, conditions like depression, eating disorders and anxiety are even worse because you become so focused on them that you forget everything else, usually the good things.

I still have my problems, but I can sort them out. I still worry about the future, but that is going to always happen regardless of how much I stress and sulk.  I'm still an insanely obsessive person and that's never going to change, I'm always going to fuss over my weight, but at least it gives me focus. I do get depressed very easily, but at least I know I also have times of great happiness. There's a quote by someone I can't remember the name of and I'm too lazy to google it, but to paraphrase it said that you can't know happiness until you know sorrow and I believe that wholeheartedly.  If I am sad tomorrow, at least I can assure myself that I was happy today. Maybe I just have to stop every so often and remind myself that I am doing the best that I can, that I'm being and just enjoy the day for what it is, not what it could be.

You have to remember that life is sort of like running a marathon, if all you do is focus on the physical effort, on the distance left to cover, everything seems much harder and longer and you have a lesser chance of ever making the finish line.

“What should I be
but just what I am?” 
― Edna St. Vincent Millay