I've Realized I'm a Happy Person at Heart

That's not something I would have been able to say about myself for most of my life. I spent years of my life thinking about what was wrong with the world, judging people who didn't live the way I thought they should and obsessing over the ways I didn't think my own life measured up to the status quo. But I've noticed things have been different for me lately.

It's not that my life changed. I still have the vast majority of the problems I had before and could well be stuck with some of them for the foreseeable future. I just have a better attitude than I used to. Some of that seemed to come with age, but the rest really was about a simple perspective change. It's a change I'm grateful for, as life is just better this way. After all, I only get one of those... a life. I don't really want to waste mine griping, complaining, and judging. 

Life's never going to be fucking perfect.

I used to think that I couldn't be happy until I got specific details of my life in line. When I was an awkward teenager, I thought being prettier would do it. Later on, I thought meeting someone would be the answer. Or finding a way to run a business out of my home so I wouldn't have to spend so much of my time at an office or behind a cash register somewhere. Then I met someone, got married, and still wasn't happy with my love life, so I got a divorce and started daydreaming about the day I'd meet someone better. Once I had a business, I wanted a better one doing more exciting work. 

There's always going to be something else -- some other part of your life that downright sucks or something monumental you finally achieve only to realize your life still isn't the way you want it. And the vast majority of those solutions you thought were going to solve all your problems come with brand new issues of their own. If you wait to allow yourself any measure of happiness or contentment until everything's perfect, you're going to be waiting until you drop dead.

On Writing About the Tough Stuff

I seem to have reached a turning point with some of my writing lately that I thought was still a few years down the line -- the point where I'm no longer just thinking about telling my more challenging stories, but actually sitting down and writing them. And then I've been going and posting them in front of actual people instead of just pouring my soul out into my journal and calling it a day. The topics are all over the place, but they include things to do with my upbringing, my complicated relationships with my parents, some of the abuse I experienced while married to my ex, and so forth. 

I've been at it here and there for a few months now, and it's been a strange experience, especially when it comes to things I'm talking about for the first time. I often wind up feeling like I picked at a freshly-formed scab or lanced an infected boil -- sort of gross at first, with a lingering feeling of just having done something I shouldn't have, but then much better afterward when the pain is gone. I think doing this has made some of these things easier to bear and continue healing from.

I feel like I need to cheer up a little bit soon, though. I don't want to develop a reputation for being someone who complains all the time and never seems to have anything positive to say. I'm a much more joyful, grateful person than I let on a lot of the time -- even on days when I'm not feeling my emotional best. But sometimes, I find it valuable and worthwhile to look at some of the more challenging aspects of my existence through my writing. Here are a few insights for those of you who may be trying to do something similar.

Start by journaling in private first.

I'm not sure exactly what I expected when I started keeping a private journal again a little over a year ago. I thought it would be fun -- a throwback to my younger years when I journaled ferociously, and I knew it would be helpful in working through things without having to bother other people for a shoulder all the time. I didn't really expect it to change much about the rest of my writing, but that's exactly what wound up happening. 

On Tax Day, Freelancing, and All the Rest of It

Today was Tax Day, so of course, I was on Turbo Tax today getting my taxes done. I don't know why I always feel the need to wait until actual Tax Day to file my returns. I'd probably be a lot better off being proactive and getting them done in January or February like all the big boys and girls out there. 

I'm guessing it's because taxes are not fun when you're a self-employed person. You pretty much always owe, and I'm like a dragon hoarding its gold when it comes to money, especially these days. I've been very proud of how I've been able to put money in savings, clean up my credit, and all the rest of it over the past few years. It is not easy for me to let large amounts of money go for purposes like taxes, big bills, or unexpected emergency purchases. And I did really well last year -- certainly the best I've done since I started freelancing full time -- so I had to cough up a pretty big wad of change.

I feel better about it than I would have thought, though. In the past, stuff like this used to really piss me off, but I guess at some point over the past decade or two, I actually grew into an emotionally mature adult. I'm more socially astute than I used to be, so there's something I like about knowing I've paid my share toward the money that goes to pave roads, help people in need, and keep society running. I enjoy feeling like a productive, contributing member of society and all that. 

I guess that means I'm officially an old fart, but whatever. It's all good. It's just money. There's a lot more of it where that came from, and I have a lot of faith in my ability to earn more these days. It certainly feels like a load off -- having something I dread as much as I dread doing taxes officially off my plate for another year.