Saturday, October 17, 2015

Just a quick one

I don't have a lot of time because it's late and I need to start on dinner, but this is important enough to say and I have a platform. So there.

This morning, as I was perusing Facebook, I came across a little comic of two... I dunno, cats? Anyway, one was holding a jar that said "Happiness." The other one said, "Where did you get that? I've been looking for it everywhere!" And the one holding the jar replies, "I made it myself."

A few weeks ago there was another meme that said something along the lines of "If you don't have anything positive to say, then stay silent. We're all tired of your shit."

Now, as someone who suffers quite literally from depression and anxiety, those types of statuses feel like an attack. Sometimes I don't have anything positive to say. Why? Because pretending to be happy takes energy and sometimes I'm using all of my energy to not harm myself.

Yeah, go back and read that last sentence again.

And I've tried to make my own happiness, but that's really hard when you feel each failure as a physical blow. It doesn't even have to be a big failure, or even a "failure" by most people's standards.

True story: a few weeks ago, Steve and I went to an art do in town. While we were there and rubbing elbows with the locals, Steve let out that I'm a trained, and fairly talented if I do say so myself, barista (that's someone who makes coffee). Well! That was just the most amazing thing ever, because, according to this particular group, the local cafe was in serious need of talented help. And it just so happened that they meet there every morning and talk and whatnot, and I should come on Monday and talk and make coffee because that would be awesome. That was a Saturday, so I had all day Sunday to stress about it and overthink EVERYTHING. And believe me, I did. I didn't actually sleep very well Sunday because I was so freaked out about the entire thing. In fact, Monday morning, I almost didn't go. But I did. I spent the last bit of my energy dragging my butt out of the house and into town. Then I sat in my car in front of the cafe mentally admonishing myself for being a complete losery mess. Somehow, I don't know how, I managed to drag myself out of the car and into the cafe with a smile on my face ready to play nice. Except there was no one there. And the people behind the counter were not the ones from Saturday. I went to the counter and ordered a Chai Latte, and mentioned that the people on Saturday had told me to come in since I was a barista, an artist, and new to the area. "Oh, that's cool," the girl said, thoroughly uninterested. No, they're not looking for help. No idea when they meet there, or even if. This, to me, counts as yet another failure.

So, if you're a positive person and things just always seem to go your way, that's great. Honestly, I would never take that away from you. Please try to understand, though, that I kind of hate you for it. I'm pretty sure that the "everything always goes my way" people are taking all the luck meaning that people like me are constantly getting shit on through no fault of our own. We work hard, harder than most, because it never goes our way and we think we just didn't do enough or the right thing and we need to do more so it doesn't happen again. But then it does happen again, and it doesn't make any sense. It takes a lot of energy to keep trying harder, but never getting anywhere. Just keep that in mind the next time you post something about being positive or shutting up.  

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