I’m Still Holding onto the Feeling that I Need to be Happy all. the. time
and, it’s dragging me down.
I have this weird obsession with trying to perfectly happy all.the.damn.time. I’m sure that a lot of you have the exact same feeling. It’s drilled into us with all of the motivational quotes out there, of how happy we would be if we lived a more simple life, a minimalist wardrobe and house. We’re told that if we lived in a 300–500 sq. ft. home on wheels we’d find happiness every single day because we won’t be living with junk and have lower bills. We’re told that once we find our passion, we won’t work a day in our life.
I say bullshit to all of that.
Yeah, we will probably feel much happier in a clutter-free home. Yes, saving money will help us cut down on our stress — if our stress stems from working too much, or not having enough to pay our bills. Yeah, for some, getting ready in the morning can cause agony, so cutting down on the amount of clothes you own can be beneficial. I have no idea who the fuck came up with the idea that once you find your passion you won’t be working anymore, because that’s complete and total bollocks and I can’t believe we all fell for it.
I love writing. It’s a passion of mine. So is gardening. I love getting my hands dirty in the dirt. I love checking on my seedlings, on my plants, and seeing how they’re growing. I love watering my garden and watching my plants breathe a sigh of relief when the water touches down. I also love sitting in front of a computer writing whatever the hell comes to mind. I love scribbling ideas on a piece of paper, and that feeling I get when I become excited about something I’m writing.
I also hate the days that I have to write. The days where I’d rather be doing something outside, or lazing on the couch. The days when I’m not sure what to write and I don’t feel inspired, but if I want to make any money, I need to hammer down and figure it out. I hate figuring out taxes and budgets, making sure I can — eventually — live off of my writing. I hate some parts of marketing myself and any computer backend stuff I have to figure out myself because I can’t afford to hire anyone else.
My passion is my passion, and when I’m feeling inspired life is great. Most of the other times? No, life isn’t so great. I’m not soaring through the air, I’m not happy every single morning I wake up. I wake up, make my coffee, and get to work because I have to work. If it were just my passion, just a hobby, I’d be soaring and happy all the time because I’d only be doing it when I felt like it. It wouldn’t be a job. And, that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s still a job. It doesn’t matter how much you love your work, it’s still a job you have to wake up and go to every day (or every second day or whatever your schedule may be). It’s still a responsibility that nags you when you ignore it.
I love gardening and love filling my home with plants, but the idea of starting my own greenhouse or store sounds exhausting and extremely annoying. Digging in the dirt whenever I damn well please, well, that’s a passion that can give me happiness.
Some days we will feel icky. We may feel under the weather, we may feel angry, lonely, sad, simply just blah, or content. We won’t feel happy all of the time, and that’s okay. I understand this, and I try to acknowledge the fact that some days I just won’t be over-the-moon ecstatic about everything; there is no just no way my body could sustain that type of happiness every single day. I think I’d explode, like what almost happens to me when I see tiny, floofy animals.
I know that we can’t be happy 24/7, and yet, I’m constantly chasing that high. I’m wondering why I’m not as happy as that woman in the Instagram photo, why I’m not happy living out my passion and dreams. Are they not, truly, my dreams if they don’t make me happy always? I see those motivational quotes and I nod my head, knowing that I can be better, that I can reach up and grab that happiness, bottling it up before it flies away.
I’m exhausted from it. I want those bad days, those lazy days where you can’t do anything but watch TV or read. Those days where I’m so busy I don’t have time to sit down with my passions. Those days where I’m feeling blah. Even more, I want those days where I feel content, not happy, but content. That means I’m living life, it means that I’m doing things that change the way I experience feelings, experience life around me.
We can’t be happy all the time, so why do we try? Instead of exhausting ourselves to the bitter end, ever-chasing that rainbow that has been marketed to us, let’s just see what the day brings and roll with those feelings. I’m sure it’ll feel better than being constantly at a high, always hoping to top that feeling. Although, what do I know? I still feel like I need that magical happy pill, given to me in a simpler life, full of nothing, while I dream out my passions. Let’s hope I can beat this ridiculous obsession.
