Happiness is always a by-product. It is probably a matter of temperament, and for anything I know it may be glandular. But it is not something that can be demanded from life, and if you are not happy you had better stop worrying about it and see what treasures you can pluck from your own brand of unhappiness.
— Robertson Davies
And I’m not happy. I’m often not happy. It’s a state of being Me. I was born miserable. But this has been overcome and the Me that portrays herself to other people is generally happy and does truly feel happy. Most of the time.
I have a lot to be happy for …
I have a wonderful Blokey who loves me and all my little quirks.
I have a job that I thoroughly enjoy in a challenging and rewarding environment.
I have some fantastic and amazing friends [who I don’t see often enough … pah!].
My family are my world and without them I would cease to exist.
I’ve achieved more than the thirteen year old Me ever would have dreamt possible.
I’ve experienced Life and most of the horrid aspects that it can throw at someone and I’ve come out stronger on the other side.
I have songs that I like which I’m about to burn onto a CD as a Christmas gift for someone.
But on the other hand I do have a lot to make me unhappy …
We have a leak in the kitchen, under the kitchen sink. I think it was there before the plumber came to put the waste pipe in for the dishwasher on Saturday but he didn’t see it. We thought it was the seal under the sink. We phoned the Letting Agents. A man came while we were both out today and left a note saying he’d fixed it. Yep, seemed dry. Then I heard a noise. The sort of noise that one hears when a tap or shower head decide to release a little water – that sort of dribble pattering against the porcelain or steel that lasts for a matter of seconds? Underneath the u-bend of the kitchen sink it appears to be sopping wet again. And I hadn’t even run any water. Anywhere. Spooky.
Then I had a shower. The shower broke as I turned the knob to switch it off. Now we have to turn it on at the stringy bit in the hall. But we won’t tell them that. We’ll just pretend it’s broken totally and maybe they’ll get off their fat arses and come and mend it. And perhaps they’ll send a qualified plumber next time instead of a glorified handy-man.
I refuse to use either the washing machine or the dishwasher till the leak has been fixed properly. This makes me very unhappy because I like to have clean clothes! But I have a phobia. Well, a worry really. Because we live in a first floor flat I worry about water leaking everywhere. I do remember those adverts where the bath fell through the ceiling. And I don’t want to upset the people in the flat downstairs.
The only other thing making me feel currently unhappy is feeling so damn tired. I feel tired because I don’t sleep properly. I don’t sleep properly because I panic about everything. I panic about everything because I worry too damn much. I worry so much that my head spins.
And at the moment I’m only truly happy when I’m not in this flat.
Roll on the day when we buy our own house. Less than six months and I’m definitely counting the days down.
So this evening I spent an hour sobbing on the bed till The Blokey came home. And now I feel safe again. I’ve lived in oodles of houses over the years, some of them were the scummiest in the whole wide world. But I’ve never been scared of living somewhere before.
Don’t some places just give off bad vibes?
Oh, be gone, melodramatic and self-pitying post …
[In the previous post I think that the word I couldn’t quite place was meditation. I was confused and couldn’t remember what it was because I had first put medication. Perhaps I’m more in need of medication than meditation … *ponders* …]
please God bless the fact that I am miserable [and I love it!] xxx Elsabeth