Lately, it has been pressed on me just how much my own happiness does not depend on outside circumstances but on myself and the life that I create for myself. Over and over I see people that have more than me and have had their lives handed to them on a silver platter being chronically depressed and dissatisfied with their lives. This is hard for me to accept, even though I understand that depression is chemical as well as psychological. I know this because it is something that I had had to deal with for a very long time.
It irks me now because I know that I could be depressed even when so many things were going well for me. I was propagating my own suffering and as a result my life would steadily decline in a downward spiral. There will always be problems in life. This is a fact. We can choose to let those problems dictate how we feel or be happy in spite of them. I've started to take the latter stance without even noticing it apparently. It struck me today as I was walking to work and feeling happy. Why am I happy? There are literally piles of problems that I could be obsessing about yet here I am, not in delusion that the problems exist, but not worrying about them either.
This is really going to ruin the whole tortured artist I had going. Damn...oh well. I will be to busy not wanting to shoot myself for once to actually mind. I find it funny that something like this emerged out of one the worst bouts of depression that I have ever had in my life. It was like I was so sick of feeling like shit all the time, that I just turned all feeling off and decided to take a step back for a while and let the chips fall where they may, not something that comes very easily for me.
I know that it would be naive to think that the depression will disappear entirely, but maybe if I am lucky it can transform into beautiful melancholy that still shapes what I create.
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