I’m not happy.
What does it even mean to say that? How do I reconcile the fact that I am ‘happily’ married to an amazing man, with a beautiful son, have a rewarding career, a nice home and the ability to pay bills and put food on the table – but then say I’m not happy?
What does it mean to be happy? Where does happy come from? Why am I unable to find it?
For as long as I can remember, I have blogged about being sad, lonely, unhappy. I have always held something in my mind as the ideal solution to my problem; if I get a new car, I’ll be happy. When we finally get married, I will be happy. As soon as I get a new job, I will be happier. Having a baby will make me happy. I will be happy when I have friends.
But nothing ever changes. I am still me – wife, mother, ultrasonographer, friend – and I am still unhappy, trying desperately to figure out what is missing.
Only, I’ve come to realize that it has nothing to do with what I have or don’t have, want or don’t want.
So then… what is it? What will finally make me happy? Is there something fundamentally wrong with me, that I am unable to be happy? I don’t understand. Maybe everyone else is unhappy too, and they’re just better at faking it.
I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know what to try. A hobby? Living closer to my family? Going back to school? Anti-depressants? Quit blogging? Exercise? What do I do?
Both of my husbands have said these words to me: “Nothing ever makes you happy anyways, so why bother trying?” I guess it must be true.
I’m lost. And I don’t know how to find myself.
