Happy Being Miserable

I have spent a great deal of my life clinging to misery.  It seems like a counter productive act looking back, but I did it all the same.  I secretly loved being miserable.  It defined me and I held on tight.  I don’t know why I loved it so much, maybe I was convinced that it was who I was and therefore unchangeable.  I think I feared losing myself if I tried to chase happiness.  I would sit in my room listening to the saddest songs I could find and revel in the infinite sadness that I felt.  It’s no wonder why I had very few friends growing up and the ones I had were held at arms length.  Anyone who brought be joy was looked upon as if they had a hidden agenda.  Life was miserable.

Years of living like that are hard to erase.  I am no longer content with being miserable.  I deserve some happiness and I’m going to find it.  I deserve to be kind to myself and I deserve to love myself.  There are so many automatic thoughts that creep in every day and there is so much damage done by my past life that creating a new, happier life has been difficult.  It’s hard work and it always will be hard work.  Being positive is the new me and I’m going to fight hard to stay that way!  PMA!IMG_4416.JPG

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