You're Afraid of Being Happy: It's Just the Title

Several years ago, a friend offered some advice concerning my unrest. "You're afraid of being happy." It made sense. When your Magic Carpet crashes (you know, the one that was supposed to last you a lifetime), you're not likely to jump onto the next one. You decide to say "Who needs carpet, much less MAGIC carpet. Pssh!"

Recently I realized that this advice was just the title of my problem. I AM happy. I have a multitude of things to be happy about. I am the epitome of optimism. In my last lifetime, I invented the phrase "pull up your boot straps"! My anxiety and unrest lies much deeper than being afraid of happiness. Maybe you have this problem too.

Some of us are "people pleasers". Some of us are good at pleasing people. And then, there are some of us that feel guilty if we disappoint the ones we care for. I'm sure someone educated in psychology could recite how we came to be this way, but for my point, that stuff doesn't matter. Here we are, the way we are, and we all got here in our own twisted human experience way. My real problem is that I struggle with my happiness interfering with someone else's happiness. I am a stubborn, headstrong person who knows what she wants. I'm also super sensitive to the feelings of people I care for. I have done these people a disservice by acting like they are not strong enough to compromise so that we all can reach some semblance of happiness. For whatever reason, my thinking had been molded into a need to set a bigger than necessary portion of my happiness and comfort aside for the happiness and comfort of others. I had even become skilled at convincing not only others, but myself, that I was happy to do it. Does this describe any of you?

In 1993, a new song came on the radio. I was sitting in my truck. I had just pulled into work. I couldn't leave the truck, because this song struck a chord so deeply in me. The singer was saying that he was not happy with his relationship, that he wanted to leave his partner, but that he couldn't because he didn't want to hurt her. I was sobbing uncontrollably, because I was so unhappy, but saw no way of changing my situation without hurting others. The song was a duet. If I had been more evolved in my thinking, I would have realized that the other singer was just as unhappy. Striving to save someone else through sacrifice was and is clearly counterproductive. I don't want to spin my wheels to no avail any longer.

I love to use visualization to help propel me in my endeavors. Here is my new vision: I'm in a drag car. It's a bright green El Camino with flames on the hood and sides. The engine is roaring. I'm executing a perfect burnout (representing the past), and then I take off down the road and into the future. I can take with me whatever I want, and I can leave behind what no longer serves me. Eat my dust. I left you a cool glass of water to wash it down with. :D