Happiness is not a fish that you can catch

I’m assuming you’ve read the previous scatterthought. If you haven’t done so, go there first or some of this will be out of the blue.

I had an epiphany last night while out at a ceili, and since I’m in good spirits after a fun and active day, it’s a good time to write about it. That’s why I’m here at 2am, when I should really be sleeping. It’s not keeping me up or anything like that…I was having a good conversation with my dad about some other stuff, and figure I might as well use my alertness to Scatterthought’s advantage.

So anyway, I had an epiphany last night and started to write about it last night, but it wasn’t coming out very well so I decided to hold off on posting it. And now I’m revising it heavily. Here goes…

I’m not happy, but I refuse to let myself be unhappy.

Think about that for a moment, because that pretty much defines who I am at this point in my life.

Like I said, I’m in a good mood right now so this is the best time to talk about it. When I say that I’m not happy, that’s not with regard to a specific moment or with a specific thing, but a comment on my life. I’m just not happy with the way things are going right now. If you read back over the past half-year’s scatterthoughts, you’ll see that this is true.

What you’ll also see is that I refuse to let myself be unhappy. Whenever a hint of that appears, I remind myself of how good I’ve got it. A great job, a home, two cats, a car, great friends, loving family. Add in all of the fun activities I take part in, and what do I have to complain about? Nothing, that’s what I tell myself. There are people in this world who have far less than I do, and logic says I should be quite pleased with what I’ve got.

Well, I am pleased; I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and what I’ve got planned in the near and distant future. I’m just not happy.

Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I’m unfulfilled, but it amounts to the same thing. As good as life is…it’s not what I want. Up until now, I’ve refused to let that be a reason for unhappiness. I’ve dismissed it as an emotional reaction that can be controlled. And I’ve done my best to control it.

But you know what? It can’t be controlled. I’ve tried for awhile now to do so, and it’s not working. I keep telling myself and anyone who’ll listen that my life is great. And I ignore the little voice in my head, reminding me that this wasn’t how the plan was supposed to unfold.

Not that I have a plan, per se. But if I did, it would be different from what I’ve put together thus far. For one thing, I’d be taller.

Ha ha. Just cuz I’m not happy doesn’t mean I’ve lost my sense of humour.

So what’s the solution? There isn’t one. I know all of the rational reasons that I should be happy, and I’m rejecting them for a highly emotional response. I’m going to let myself be unhappy–though I’m still going to have fun and enjoy what’s going on in the life I have–and when I’m done with that, I’m hopefully going to move on.

I’m going to stop trying to control my emotions–something I learned to do long ago but haven’t been practicing–and just feel them.

So there you have it. I’m unhappy.

And it feels good.