Are you happy? I mean, be honest with yourself. Are you? I try to be, but I often feel bummed out. Perhaps most do, which is why there's an incredible amount of alcohol and drug abuse.
I find myself always whining and complaining about my life, when in all reality, I am quite blessed. Spoiled even. I have a job (despite the sea of morons), a decent car, a roof over my head, food, relatively decent health, am fairly smart, and have good friends and a decent family. I live in a fairly progressive country that is pretty rich compared to most of the world's very poor.
And yet, day in and out, I often ponder if it couldn't be better. Could I not be earning more money? Have a better job? Live in a better place? Travel more? Be more organized? I know there is always room for improvement, but I am much too hard on myself, and I know I shouldn't be. This is the cause of much of my unhappiness; often, I live vicariously through the success of others, which I know is a big mistake. Why does Justin Timberlake get to be so rich and famous and oh at such a young age? Why couldn't that be me?! DAMN HIM! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL! I often stupidly think that if I were rich and did not have to worry about working so much, I'd be happier. Perhaps only temporarily so. But JAYSUS, money sure would help. Oh God yes!
Even worse, is when I start to judge my physical appearance. I don't think I'm an ugly dude by any means, but I am often very critical of my looks. I wasn't blessed with the best skin (oily as hell, but good for wrinkles though), often feel much too thin, and hate the idea of having to age and get older. The gray hairs are starting to show, the birthdays are coming much sooner than before, and the idea of my face and body transforming into an old man is really quite scary to me. VANITY RIGHT? And yet, others say I look fine, and should be happy, but there I am: my own worst critic. I dunno why. Early parental conditioning perhaps? Yeah, can't forget the way we were brought up huh? UGH!
And the fact that I got cursed with stupid anxiety disorder which hits me like a freight train at times really sucks. The source of probably most of my unhappiness really. It has kept me from taking more risks, and of being more adventurous. I'm still functional in the real world (thanks to medication), but I find it very demoralizing and frustrating to not be more bold and always worry about having a panic attack.
Being gay was also a great source of my previous unhappiness, but recently having come out of the closet more has helped that issue a bit more. I'll always run into intolerance and people who hate me, and I guess I'll be okay with that, as long as they don't decide to bash my head in or hang me from a fence like a scarecrow.
Alas, I don't know why I should be sharing my issues like this really. I'm sure y'all have yours.
It's just that mine are the ones that matter.