happiness

In my journey for the entire of the year past, through my trainwreck of a personal life barely non-existent, and without time to reflect, I tried to figure out what would make me happy. Having a job I hated, which took up 90% of my time, and caused mental, physical, and emotional anguish, I truly believed that once it was over, things would become clearer; I would be able to focus on what it really was I wanted, and I would become, once again, blissfully happy - a moment which last occurrence I cannot seem to recall. I believed that my unhappiness stemmed from something that had been a big and important part of my life for my entire adulthood.

Once the storm did finally calm, and I was able to eliminate lack of personal time as the root cause of such evil, at the tail end of the year, after a few trials and errors during the year, I found something really great. At the time, though I had this gut feeling of how much potential it could have, things were uncertain, and at the very end of it all, I learned that I couldn't have it after all. My upcoming time away, I had hoped, was going to clear my head from all of it. Perhaps it was not at all what I thought I felt; I justified the feeling as something that happened to be the first great thing I had stumbled upon after such an exhausting year.

Time away made it easy to adjust once I came back. Only two weeks have passed, and I want to give it time. But as I lay here realizing what this all means, I am finally admitting to myself, that I am not.