Happiness is a Warm Gun

We all have high points and low points in our lives. I guess it's only fair that after a year of rebellion, of new friends, new music, new excitements, new boys, new jobs, and new opportunities, I was due for a low. 

I've been battling depression for a few years, but I was always able to mask it, to tuck it away and be strong. My dad finally threw me away freshman year of college. I was the last remaining family member he still talked to, that still cared about him, that still defended him, and that year, I finally learned what everyone already knew. My high school friends all went to the same college, but I chose to go to school in a different state, alone. I don't make friends easily. I walk around with a false, egotistical confidence that intimidates people, and though I'm really open, it's hard to get to know and understand me. I'm good at hiding things. 

I did it with the guy I was in love with, who didn't feel the same. I tucked it away, hoping it would cease and that I would move on. Because I knew no one wanted to listen to it anymore. No one wanted to hang around with someone who was broken. I could see it in their eyes, the way they looked at me. I could tell they wished I wouldn't pull them into my misery with me. So I buried it. 

I do it with all my self-doubts and insecurities. Especially when it comes to my job/career. I've been following the "dream" of working in film, but I was too afraid to admit that maybe I was wrong, that this isn't what I really want to do. That maybe I'm not that good at it. That I'm not driven enough. 

I was born in the end of May, making me a cusp-sign, a "Tauremini" if you will. It means I'm stubborn and indecisive, in a nutshell. I have two signs battling out one another, on top of the opposing twins of Gemini. So I think that maybe I'm just being indecisive, that I'll change my mind again. And I do. I've changed my mind about whether I'm going to stay or go EVERY NIGHT. But then that stubbornness could also be a motivation, a crux in my decision-making ability. A fear of failure, of being wrong, of letting go.

I have days where I sit at my desk at home, on my computer, relentlessly applying for jobs. I have other days where all I do is lie in bed and watch a marathon of a stupid TV show, so I can forget my worries and immerse myself in fake problems of fake people.

Lately, that depression I've been fighting, has been showing itself. It hit really hard last fall, when I literally couldn't stop crying for hours. But I buried it again, seeing the concerned looks and being woken up by my mother at 8am because she's afraid for me. I've had friends put me on suicide-watch, though I'm not stupid enough to ever do something like that. And I hate the judgement, the concern, the worry. I don't like people worrying about me. Especially my mother, who has so much to worry about already. I'm supposed to be the good one, the successful one, the independent one.

So this lay off has broken a bit more of me. Because I'm beginning to remember that I forget what happiness feels like. And I'm reminded of how much I've lost in the past few years. My Dad. Certain boys that don't really deserve to be thought about, but still feel like they can judge me, that they can offer nice words of encouragement like everything's okay, when they have no right to be there for me. Not when they're the reason my heart had to heal in the first place.

Yes, I should think of the good things that have happened to me, look for the happiness in the little things. I moved to LA and fought like hell for two years. I've had a pseudo-stable income. I have friends and family that care about me and love me, and pay lots of money to come see me. I had the LA experience of knowing a "celebrity," if only for a few months. I studied abroad in college. Good things have happened to me. But in times of sadness, the bad things always seem to outnumber the good. 

I guess I'm just looking for my own slice of happiness. Of belonging.