Writers With Mental Illness

Why Finding Happiness Was Easier (And Harder) Than I Thought

Not too long ago, I had doubts. Doubts about who I was, what I did in this world, why I was here and if others would love me for being myself, just because…

I got so frustrated thinking that I was doing things wrong, convinced that there was something I needed to improve. There had to be something I needed to change for everything to turn out right for me.

Sometimes I even cried, convinced that I’d never able to figure things out, convinced that I was going to be alone, forever.

This insecurity locked me in a box. A box surrounded by another box until I was trapped. Trapped in my life, unable to go outside. I spent my nights alone in my room and I thought… a lot. 

I wondered what others thought about me, too. But that took me nowhere. I wrapped myself up in suppositions about

what would happen if… or what would they think or how would I react if…

I was not living. I stayed alone, locked inside my room. I did not know who I was.

I wanted desperately to be someone else.

Just once, be someone else.

It was ironic because I ran away and hid from the people that appreciated me the most. I did not want them to approach me. Not even the slightest bit. Why is it that we push away the people that care about us the most? Especially when we need them? Are we ashamed? Are we angry? Angry that we need help? Or that the ones we love most have to see us this way?

One day, finally, somehow, while I sat in my room, thinking, as usual, I realized who I wanted to be.

It was me.

It was really that simple all along.

That person I was looking for was not in front of me but in me. I was that person. All I had to do was figure that out. I could see the path that I wanted to follow. I did not have to try to be someone else, only the best version of myself.

Do you know how much of a relief that was? I exploded in joy when I realized this. Realized that the person I want to be is who I already am. It’s the person sitting down, right here, writing this.

Save yourself from the nights I spent alone, staring up at the ceiling. Stop looking for happiness to appear somewhere. There is no sure path to reach it. There is no recipe to follow.

Happiness is nothing but the product of a life lived. A life filled with value in which you do not look for it (happiness) but find it in every little thing and within yourself.

A life filled with value leads to happiness. Value yourself first and foremost.

The rest will come.

 finding happinessAbout the Author:

Ignacio Agote enjoys writing and blogging about life and how to live a more meaningful one. His new blog “freeingthought” features essays, stories, and poems that seek to provoke opinions and thoughts on those who read it. He wants people to find new ways to live a better life while discovering himself how to do it.
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