I realized something this weekend...I'm not happy. I'm not sad either, but I'm not exactly happy tho. I mean, my life isn't terrible. I have a fabulous husband who I'm in love with and loves me and supports me in everything. We have a great house, plenty of food, money, and even a little extra to do the occasional night out...so its not as if I have a bad life. But I'm just not "happy"
By the same token, I'm not exactly depressed. I don't spend all day moping about moaning about how horrific my life is. Honestly, I don't really think about it most of the time. I'm usually not in pain, I've recently been feeling more energy (comparatively). I just don't have the focus to stay on task for so many of the things that need to be done around the house...believe me, the half done things around here can contest to that.
Talking to Matt this week, however, I think I kinda nailed down (atleast somewhat) where some of the unhappiness is coming from. Right now, I feel like I am just taking up space in the universe...It wasn't so bad when I still felt sick, i.e. fatigued, numb, etc But with me having more energy and (to me) seeming more coherent and 'with-it' (even tho I know I still have probs) its hard to accept the 'bump-on-a-log' status that I feel I am. Essentially, in my mind, I'm at the point where I should be capable of giving to society in some way.
Maybe its the way I was raised... IDK..I just know domestic stuff is difficult for me. I never was Ms Suzy Homemaker. I was always out in the barn or in the shop working on big equipment w/ Dad so Mom never imparted her few domestic skills to me and I was abysmal in Home-Ec class. Unfortunately learning those skills with a damaged brain is a bit more challenging so I'm not finding much happiness with those few (far between & meager) sorta successes.
It was always stressed to me as a kid that productivity (work) = success = happiness. So being on disability has kinda messed w/ my mentality. I know a job would be too stressful and would start the original problems that I've just started to get under control after over a yr off. But as I said, I'm needing to feel productive somehow...feel like I contribute to society instead of just breathing oxygen and eating food. That way I can feel happy and useful again because I'm doing something needed.
The idea Matt and I came up with (technically Matt suggested) was to volunteer a few hrs a wk at the local animal shelter. This way there isn't the stress of pleasing a boss to keep a job. I kinda pick the hrs...I just have to make sure I show up at the hrs I promised. And it puts me back amidst animal care, which was what I always wanted to do (original degree was gonna be vet until brain died on me and hands followed)
Its almost embarrassing to realize how such a small thing can be the difference of a happy existence or one that just IS. I look at my friends...one is an awesome baker. She brings great tasting desserts into people's lives. & she a missionary so she spreads the Word about. Another friend is in photography. She memorializes events with her beautiful photos. They all add something to the lives and happiness of others, which in turn brings them fulfillment. And I guess that's just what I'm missing...
