Happiness, or Something

Happiness is instinctive.

I don’t mean that we strive to be happy, that is very obvious. Everyone strives for happiness, and that’s just human nature. It’s a drive to get out of a difficult and unsatisfactory situation.

No, I am not talking about being happy for me.

I am talking about being happy for the sake of others. 

Plastering on a smile while your brain shoots verbal bullets and assaults you with fists made of insults and hatred and fear. Your first instinct is to smile through it, never let anyone see who you are.

I started this at a young age, probably around five or six years old. I was bullied pretty bad through elementary school, but the teachers would always put on their reports of me that I was a model student and was always optimistic. Well, look where I am now.

But, I remain happy.

I’m almost sixteen, only held my first job for six months before having to quit for medical reasons; I’m supposed to go to therapy twice a week, but that doesn’t happen because my therapist has a hard-to-work-with schedule. I have severe anxiety, problems with socialization, and have the self-esteem of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.

I know, unusual example.

I don’t know how to act, because I never really got to be a kid. I was always with adults when I was in elementary school because no kids wanted to be around me.

Even now, I don’t know how I’m supposed to act because I never learned it. I never learned how to interact with people my age, and probably never will.

Still, I smile. I’m optimistic. That’s how I coped: optimism. I had a constant mentality of, “I’ll get there someday. It may not be today or tomorrow, but someday.”

Now, you might think, “that is a great mentality to have!”

It becomes a problem when you never learn to be you. You become a someday, an hourglass that always turns before time is up.

But, we remain happy.

Happiness is one of the greatest things in the world, it creates confidence and self-esteem that a person may have not known that they had.

In others, however, it’s like a constricting band around our souls.

Our souls stay small when we’re happy, allowing our brain and its hormones to take the reins. But when the soul expands with anger, or sorrow, or fear, it squeezes and hurts. It’s telling us, “shrink back, let your brain take care of it.”

We just want to scream, “why can’t I take care of it!?”

So, you never learn.

Anger and fear and sorrow all blend into one emotional blob, and you can’t really tell when one starts and one ends. Next thing you know, you’re on the floor crying or there’s a concerned family member in the room because they heard you screaming. You smile and apologize, saying that you saw something sad or that you dropped something on accident. They believe you, and leave you be.

Never leave a person like this be.

They’re unpredictable, either unable to make decisions on their own or taking extreme risks. You fear for their safety when they’re being brash, or being indecisive, or even just acting unusual.

But, we remain happy.

It’s an instinct that some have too much of. Similar to how some people have too much anger, or too much fear, or too much sorrow, people can have too much happiness. It flows over the edges of their soul and floods their wounds like honey over a cake.

Their souls are a bright yellow, but not too bright. It’s like soft sunlight, or wild daisies. They’re fragile, beautiful, but can cause issues for people with sensitive skin or a pollen allergy. Only some can be around us without having a negative reaction.

But, we remain happy.

Relationships become toxic because we can’t say no, can’t disagree; or maybe we can’t compromise, can’t agree. Some people are happy, living like this.

Then there’s me.

I’m indecisive, and can’t stand it. I want to make decisions easily, but I can’t.

But, I remain happy.

Instinctively happy, but happy nonetheless.