In Spite of Myself
I wonder how many times in my life I have sabotaged my own happiness? It must have been thousands at least. It seems that anytime things get too cozy, I have to stir it up someway. I think this most likely comes from growing up with an alcoholic father. You are always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess old habits are hard to break.
If you are always waiting for that bad thing to happen, then you can’t be caught off guard. You can’t be crushed by life’s big boulders if you are already looking up and hiding under something just in case.
I have tried very hard to overcome my propensity to be uneasy with happiness but I still find myself looking over my shoulder and feeling anxious when things actually seem to be going well for me.
Life is such a long journey of change and rethought and rebuild and tear down and revelation isn’t it?
I figure that about the time I am ready to leave, I will have some grasp of what it’s all about. What kind of sense does that make?