you may or may not be aware, but i’m not a terribly happy person.  that’s not to say that i’m unhappy.  i used to be able to say i was unhappy.  depressed is a better word, but in this instance i don’t want to associated with the clinical definition, so let’s stick with unhappy.  i used to be unhappy, but i’m not anymore.  i’m something else: something between happy and unhappy.  a limbo of sorts?  i have no word to describe the feeling.  discontent?  maybe.  i don’t really know.  what i do know is that its not a feeling that i’m particularly fond of.

my mom seems to be of the opinion that this is normal, that most people go through life feeling like this.  and she may be right, but i nevertheless have a hard time believing it.  i mean, if most people walk around in their lives feeling like this, it might explain some of what’s wrong with the world.  i mean, shouldn’t we enjoy life?  i mean, isn’t that the theme of so many countless books, movies, and songs?  even the most famous latin phrase would suggest otherwise….

and maybe that’s my problem.  maybe i don’t know how to seize the day.  i haven’t learned how to enjoy life and to make the most of it.  i think i’ve spent the last 27 years waiting for something to happen.  have i been putting off life because its easy to do so?  i think its safe to say that i’ve been drifting through life to this point.  could it be that i’ve gotten so used to floating that i’ve forgotten how to swim?  or, is it that i never really learned how?  regardless of the analogy, one thing is very clear; i’m terrified.

i’m terrified of everything it seems: of failing, of disappointing my father, of being hurt, of change.  i’m afraid that all this fear is going to keep me from being happy.  more than anything else in the whole world, i just want to be happy.  i’d say that i’d gladly give up everything i have in exchange for happiness and self-esteem (you could use the word confidence as well).  i’m convinced at this point that the two go hand in hand.  you can’t have one without the other.  it makes sense, because in all the length and breadth of my life, i’ve had neither.

i’ve been in therapy now for a little over two years and recently was prescribed wellbutrin (an anti-depressant).  after taking the medication every day for nearly eight weeks, it was doing me no good, so i my doctor told me to stop taking it.  i always said that medication would be a last resort if nothing else could fix me.  well, my last resort didn’t work.  what the hell am i supposed to do now?