I've felt this way for so long that I don't think I know what's normal anymore. I worry that I'm addicted to these feelings even if they're negative.
The truth hurts A LOT! (M was talking about an owner in one of his buildings that he thinks has some type of psychological issue he says like bi-polarisim or manic condition. He actually said, "She's worse than you.")
I keep asking myself what will make me happy? Am I fooling myself into thinking that if I get the house in better shape that I will be happier? Am I dumb to think that if M and the kids help out more around the house without my constant nagging that I'll be happier? Am I totally crazy to think that if I quilt more that I'll be happier? How about if I have a real quilting-based blog where I really share my love of quiiting, books, etc? Or, if I finally make some friends that I'm actually able to do things with?
If I accomplish any of this stuff will I be happier, or will I just look for other obstacles and things to be unhappy about?
Why can't I just do what I want to do instead of talking about it all the time and putting obstacles in my path, making excuse after excuse?
The other thing I'd like to figure out is when, where, how did I misplace my sense of humor? Even when it rears it's head it's usually in the form of sarcasm and snarkiness to the point of meanness.
Lyrics | Switchfoot lyrics - This Is Your Life lyrics
Lyrics | Depeche Mode lyrics - Halo lyrics
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