I'm not happy.
That's what I found myself thinking the other day, headed to work. I stopped myself and asked. Why? What are you unhappy about? You have a great job, you have great friends, you have exciting plans for the future. But no matter what I just couldn't shake my bleak outlook. I even scolded myself, bringing to mind impoverished children in third world countries who don't get to have all the luxuries I possess. That made me even more unhappy. Not only am I dismal, I am selfishly so.
I don't know what to do to cheer my mood. Music, maybe. But I feel like this is more than a mere song can alleviate. It's a dull throbbing in the back of my mind, getting louder and louder. Telling me that I can't do it. That I'm not good enough. That I'll never make it anywhere worth going. Telling me I'm not happy and I won't be. That I'll never escape this feeling.
It's crippling. And it makes me feel small in a world of many people. Each with dreams and aspirations of their own.
It keeps me up at night as I try to dream of happy days when I am good enough, and I do fit in and find my way.
Chances are it's just this rainy week that has me down. Praying for the sun to come out and play soon.