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January 9, 2019

Life's weird. 

When I think back to my younger days, I feel a sense of emptiness. I don't remember a lot of my childhood/adolescence. I remember the big things: family vacations, friends’ birthday parties, field trips, however, when I try to reminisce about things that happened to me  and my feelings it starts to all run together. As a kid, I tried to always keep a smile on my face no matter what. I wanted to make sure that my parents were never worried about me because they already had a lot to deal with, but over time my positive attitude, smile and my self-confidence began to fade.  

But still, I never wanted anyone to know about the bad feelings and thoughts. So, I hid them. 

 

I realize now that when I pushed the sad, anxiety-causing events (big or small) deep down into my memories, it, in turn, blocked out those years as a whole (dissociative amnesia). For example, my sophomore year of high school was not my favorite time and now I don't remember anything from that time of my life. Every day I would wake up and try to shove the previous day’s events deep, deep down and I believed that if I didn't think about it, it didn't happen. Of course, that was not the case, nevertheless, I would put on a happy face for my parents and my peers, but as time went on, those memories faded.

 

When I think about difficult times like that, all of my emotions come rushing to the surface but I can never pinpoint where the emotions are coming from or what caused them (which is the complete opposite of what I intended). Some things do pop up in my head randomly (at the worst possible times) and when that happens I immediately try to get rid of them, as if a can delete them from my brain and then empty the trash bin. 

My main issue now is that I can't remember the last time I was genuinely happy and, in result, I obsess over what "being happy" feels like. I spend majority of time either stressing over how to achieve it (happiness), or being terribly sad and annoyed that I can feel every other emotion but. 

I long for it. Fein for it. But I’ve forgotten what it is "supposed" to feel like.

 

I know I have over a zillion things to be happy for and I often times feel so guilty. 

I know I've been happy before. I've seen the pictures and listened to the stories but it's always like I'm hearing about someone else's life. 

 

 

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