No problemo muchachooo

So I realized I don’t have a problem.
I think that’s something we really need to bring to our own attention more often. I mean, it’s always ugh I hate this, I hate that, but in the grand total scheme of things, do we really have a problem? No. Maybe we even like hating those things.
What with moving and all that going on in my life I spent way too much time thinking I was miserable. But I needed to be miserable. Most of the time I wanted to be miserable. Man, I was mourning my old life, trying to hold on to the remnants of it. That’s fucking dark and deserves a proper period of depression, in my humble opinion. And it soothed my soul to just go rampant with sadness and question the universe and all that.
At times we just need to be put in a situation that makes us question everything. When we sit there sobbing and wet with tears at the end of it all, the happiness and relief will be so much more real. Sometimes I even think we can’t be happy without the ordeal – it might be something we really have to work for, to fight for with ourselves.
So now I’m sitting here, still in my parents’ house, still in this goddamn town I never wanted to return to and I don’t care. I don’t have a problem. It sounds crazy, I know. But I really don’t have a problem. I don’t know how that happened. I don’t know what magical occurrence made me come to terms with my situation. All I know is that I don’t have to like this place or these people or anything at all for that matter. I mean, lately I really don’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m unhappy. In fact I’m very happy to let myself feel whatever I’m feeling, no matter what. It makes me feel really really effing free. I don’t have to be happy on other people’s terms, I just have to be happy on mine.