I’ve spent the majority of my life unhappy. Not miserable, and certainly not bitter… but not truly happy.

I laugh a lot. I surround myself with good souls and we laugh a lot until it hurts.

But I was thinking recently, when was the happiest moment in my life and I honestly don’t know the answer to that. How pathetic is that? That I can’t think of a time I’ve been utterly happy.

There’s always the deep heaviness. Sadness and I can’t seem to free myself from it.

Not a victimhood mentality. Not even close. I have a pretty great sense of perspective. Gratitude is such a huge part of my being. Daily I am thankful for my eye sight, my hearing, my ability to walk. I never take those things for granted. Seeing my mother lose so much it made me even more reflective of things we often take for granted.

I can’t help but feel sad about things out of my control. I am blessed, but I’ve been through some shit. (I know we all have). But some dark traumatising shit. It’s destroyed so much of me and I always feel fragile and a bit shattered.

Exercise is important. I do hope to come off of medication one day (right now isn’t the time). I’ve had therapy, counselling, support from loved ones. So much support.

If you heart is broken over and over again, how does that shit heal?

Broken in that the people who are supposed to love and care for you unconditionally have been abusive. All kinds of abuse I won’t go into. Some leaving much deeper scars than others.

I’m so much better off without the people in my life I cut ties with, but there’s this sadness that won’t go away. The question ‘why?’.

I have known the kind of humans who’d revel in that fact knowing i’m unhappy, or have been. Gloating about their happiness. Truthfully, if you enjoy someone else’s suffering, there has to be something very much off balance in your soul. Surely?

Imagine having a close family and being smug that someone else wasn’t as fortunate.

Imagine thinking someone who is open and raw about their abuse and thinking of them as a ‘life’s victim’.

What a c*nt you’d have to be.

Yeah, i’m not sure i’ll ever be genuinely happy. Content though. I’m certainly hopeful I will get there. Mental health issues aside, I think i’m definitely in the best place i’ve been regarding the people I share my life with. I don’t have a single toxic person in my circle at this point in my life. You’d think that means my circle got smaller, but it hasn’t. It’s gotten bigger which is strange but cool.

I haven’t let my experiences or the coldness in this world make me bitter or cruel or miserable. So sure, I feel sad more than the average person perhaps. I thought my life would be in an entirely different place by mid thirties. I’m anxious about a lot. But, I didn’t turn out bitter. Or spiteful. Malicious or cruel. I have a pretty ace moral compass. I’ve been a twat in the past. Far too reactionary. I’ve grown so much though. I keep it real with myself and don’t deny the times I’ve been a tool. I have a huge heart (although a bit patched together). A tendency to call myself out on my shit to the point I annihilate my self at times and it gets dark. I remember the first time I cried in therapy was after months of holding it together… the therapist said ‘you’re more forgiving of others, the worst of people than you are of yourself’.

Fuck. That did it. Ugly cry.

So sure, still working on the whole ‘getting my shit together’ stuff. I feel ten years behind my peers. ‘Comparison is the thief of Joy’, right? Damn biological clocks. I’ve had to spend a lot of time getting well and it feels like one step forward, two steps back a lot of the time, but I didn’t end up being an asshole.

And I think that’s pretty rad.