the paradox of happiness and the unfamiliar

I think that, given my past, given everything I’ve gone through and learned and experienced, I’m finally starting to figure something out. It’s something I’ve run across once or twice previously, but didn’t take the time to focus on – and perhaps I should. I think that I, either because of the codependency or because it’s just the way my brain is hardwired, am discontented with happiness. I either am looking for more, looking for something else, or looking for something to be wrong – not because I want any of those things, but just because the simple feeling of happiness is still unfamiliar. It’s a strange thing to say, but in my recent dedication to try and enjoy every moment without putting too much worry towards the future, it’s something I’ve come across. It pops up at the strangest times, too. I pay too much attention to some things – not as much as I should to others. I sometimes (more than sometimes) discount myself and take myself, and my reality for granted. I question why good things would happen to me, why I’d be happy, why someone would like me – why someone would love me or want me. And when I start thinking that way, it’s an actual chore to try and turn my head around to positive again. I know I’m a good person, who has made mistakes. We all have. I know that I am charming, cute, funny, generous, kind, sympathetic, empathetic, smart. Perhaps this plays into the whole thing that I discussed with Patrick months ago – that for some people, usually very smart people, they tend to create their own drama and problems because living a daily life is too dull for them. So they think up things to go wrong, and worry about them, calling it being prepared, when really it’s anything but. It’s funny, a distant but important concept to grasp for me. I notice the way people say things, I notice when they say things differently, I notice when they don’t do things I’ve become accustomed to, or do things differently than they usually do – I notice body language, I notice eye color, shape and movement, I notice things that I don’t think many people do. But in other instances, I am completely oblivious. How can one by hyper-observant and dense all at once? And how much of what I’m noticing is real or valid or important – and how much is my projection of my fear, or my insight into something wrong? I became accustomed, for years, to something always being a bit off – always a fight on the horizon, always something to go some other way than what I expected. So now it’s a habit – and a hard one to break. So I pay attention to the little things, and forget to sometimes focus on the big picture – adding all those little things, along with the really BIG things together – like belief, faith, physical contact, physical proximity, value, assurances, future promises, future plans – sometimes I forget that life is an equation, and that the value for x is whatever we choose it to be. I want to choose good things.

I’ve also been thinking about the fact that everyone feels love differently. I’ve heard about the 5 love languages, I know that some things make some people feel loved, but not others. And I was doing some evaluation on myself. Which could be part of the reason that I have a lingering fear sometimes that the other shoe is going to drop, and this beautiful little life that I’ve created and now am starting to live for myself is going to collapse out from under my feet. This has little, if anything, to do with any other person – it’s me. It’s all me. I live in my head far more than I think is normal. I feel loved most when I’m being touched – sexually or otherwise – I feel loved when I am mentally stimulated. I feel loved when others show their appreciation, more than speak it. I like to hear it, true – there are some words that I would never get sick of hearing, but I’m well aware that taking words at face value, and taking them to heart is a struggle for me, even now. I have the will to accept and not doubt it, but sometimes words never sink past my surface. Sometimes they do. I feel loved when planning for the future. So at times when none of those things are happening, on an off day, or a stressful day, or a day when just chilling and relaxing, when those things aren’t happening, I start to question myself and other’s feelings for me. And this isn’t just about my relationship, it’s about my friendships too. It’s very strange. I don’t think there’s something WRONG with me – I just think my brain is wired just a bit differently from others. Perhaps everyone feels that way, at least sometimes. How much of this is projection and perception, and not reality? Probably a great deal. I know that others feel love more in those quiet moments, without the flurry of activity, and plans and intense discussions – just simply being content enough to be quiet with a loved one or friend shows them appreciation or affection. It’s an interesting thing, the human brain. I’d like to take a look at my brain chemistry sometime – not that I would know what any of it means…but I think I would find it fascinating.

Saturday is pride, and despite my previous lack of enthusiasm for it in previous years, I am actually starting to get excited. A few of my friends might meet us out there, at least the Mirror, if not Anna, and a few others. The plan is that Leighann and Ashley (two of Devon’s friends) are riding down with us. Parking will be a nightmare. But we’re also leaving by 8 am, and whether or not the others make it UP by then is slightly in question. It would be cool if they did – would feel a bit like support. It may rain on Saturday, but I’m almost finding that preferable to the 103, 100% humidity that we’ve been experiencing for the past few weeks.

I heard today that scent memory is one of the most powerful memory stimulants possible. I was thinking about that just the other day, actually – how I can smell something and it will make me feel something, even if I don’t remember the place, the person or the circumstance I associate that smell with. Sometimes smells remind me of other smells. More often than not, unless it’s a recent association, I don’t know what I’m remembering. It’s all cloudy and hazy, but I know that I know that smell from somewhere. And, as creepy as it sounds, I know what some people smell like – not their perfume or anything dirty, but what THEY smell like – and I know when they’re around. I think I might be a little weird on that one. But it’s something I’ve pretty much always been able to do. I associate my father with Old Spice and sweat. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell. I associate my grandfather with peppermint and the smell of grinding gemstones on a whetstone. I associate my grandmother with roses. My mother, I associate garlic, kitchen smells, and the rose garden. Devon still smells like Sunshine, and somehow I associate Dani with snow, although I’ve never really been in it. It must be the wolf in her. I could go on and on with that… but it’s weird how critical a part scent plays in our lives – that could even be what attracts us to others, even more than anything else. It’s fascinating to read about, really.

And, something I need to remember – from Buffy, actually:

“fear, like pain, is in the mind – and can be controlled”