Pushing myself.

So much accomplished, yet I wish I didn’t have to keep pushing myself. I used to think that once you “did” a certain number of things, those were your life accomplishments, and then you were done. Not really done in the sense of roll over and die, but done in the sense… that you’ve done enough to BE happy. The “ride off into the sunset” vision I had in my youth is hard to let go of, I suppose.

When I was full of apathy, I wanted nothing more than to just relax and do nothing. I didn’t want to put forth any effort towards anything. As I got over all of that emotional stuff, it seemed like I kept having to remind myself to DO things, otherwise I’d stagnant. Before I got my current job, I felt like crap every single weekend. I used to think that maybe once I had gotten enough life achievements, I would just BE happy, and such emotional dips would go away.

Even now. I’ve accomplished my school goal, and I’m still employed. Part of me wishes I could just chill out, do nothing, and bask in my own awesomeness. I wish being happy didn’t require so much active effort. I miss childhood when life just WAS happy.

Part of me isn’t entirely in the mood to socialize with my friends. I do so anyway, I make myself do it, because I know I’ll end up feeling better afterwards. Moreover, I owe my friends a certain amount of dedication. Relationships require energy to be maintained. It’s the same with lifting. I’m not always in the mood, but I do it anyway. I feel better afterwards. Hell, I could say the same thing about work. Some days, like everybody else on the planet, I’m just not in the mood. But I always feel better afterwards.

Maybe it’s a personal thing, but part of me thought the fear would go anyway someday. There’s a weird paranoia that tends to pervade my personality. And unless I’m proactive about it, I’m not as happy. How to put it… I get a weird paranoia that my friends don’t like me or won’t want to see me. It’s hardly crippling, but it’s still there. It’s shit like that that reminds me to stay on top of myself.

Heck, I could relate similar things regarding my relationship with Candi. It would be nice is life lived itself and you could just sit back and enjoy the ride. It just isn’t that way. Things won’t always just happen – sometimes you have to make things happen. I’m just thinking in terms of making our own special memorable moments, or just trying to go out of my way to be intimate and make her feel special.

Maybe the whole “seize the world!” attitude, that energy, that proactiveness to seek out new experiences comes naturally to other people. But not to me, not in the slightest. I’m a coward, I’m a big weenie. I’m a big homebody. But thankfully I’ve learned that I’m just not happy unless I’m busy to some degree. As I said, sometimes I wish I could just relax. I wish I could take a day to just zone out. It sounds so great on paper, but most of the time when I try this, my mood drops. Unless I’ve done a bunch of other “productive” activities like go out for a jog, or detail the kitchen counter, or spend quality time with the girlfriend, I just can’t relax.

…So maybe I have found what makes me happy, after all. Candi’s picked up on how “goal-orientated” I am. Half the time, it isn’t even about whether I achieve the goal or whether I even do it, but somehow having a sense of focus, a sense of accomplishment makes me happy. And it’s hard to feel accomplished if I’m not doing anything!

I’m happy when I get off my ass and do something. I’m happy when I listen to myself, sometimes do things that maybe I’m not in the mood for but will end up being good for me.

Yet I can’t help but wish I could be allowed to just relax…