You always have to be a pessimist, don't you? little miss doom and gloom.

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I found myself in a rather odd position yesterday. I was standing around, overcome with emotion. For some reason, it took me more than a minute to properly identify that emotion. I chewed on the knuckle of my thumb and knitted my brows together. Suddenly, it dawned on me. I was happy. This might not seem like all that great of a revelation to many, but for me, being happy and not having a definable reason throws me off. Sure, I have some reasons for being happy lately, but it's not like some great event recently occurred. Being a quiet, contented happy is not common to me. With the reality of my life, it's hard to just be happy for no reason. Hell, most of us, if we think closely about our lives, have plenty of reasons to wallow in utter disaster. Many of my readers are going through divorce, breaking up with lovers, fighting over Myspazz with friends. We're being lied to, cheated and treated like slaves at work. We all have sufficient cause to go home at night and cry ourselves our own personal rivers. Happiness seems to be an offshoot of delusion. We gloss over the bullshit to see the positive side of things. We forget getting cut off in traffic, standing in long lines at the DMV and having our card eaten by the ATM. We placate ourselves by saying that there's no reason to get pissy over crap we can't control. All these things are petty, so why not choose to overlook them? I get depressed too often to choose to be that way when I have the option of looking on the brighter side of life. I strive to be positive when I live and work (something that came in handy after I had issues only an hour after my happiness revelation) and succeed most of the time, even if there are moments when it feels faked. But to have a moment of peace, a moment where nothing spectacular is right in front of me, is a thing of wonder. Wonder... and confusion. I don't know how to handle being happy. I am thrown for a loop, left scratching my head and pondering where the happiness is coming from. I can never just accept it as it comes to me. On my post yesterday, there was a reader who left a comment quoting a post that was on craigslist. It spoke of an ugly cat who was shunned by all, yet managed to love without hesitation or question. That the writer found strength in the cat's resolve to be happy and loved. It deeply touched me and has been on my mind ever since. I am a paranoid freak. Every time someone comes to me with something positive, I question it. People have screwed me over in life, leaving me with that "Burn me once, burn me twice" feeling. The crappiest part is that I WANT to be a trusting person. I generally take people at face value. Why? Because I have no idea how to be a fake. What you get from me, while in my "AwesomeZara" mode is still me. It is never the entirity of me at any given time, but it is never false. Someone suggested that I should have "strung them along" when referring to a recent pain in my a*s. That in doing so, I might gain more insight as to why they themselves were being phoney. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I would have slipped up, given my true opinion, been myself. I can only truly play a role when reading lines in a play. But my trust in people is forever fractured. Most people are liars. The good ones lie so much, they actually believe the webs they weave. They convince themselves that what they are saying is true. My ex was someone who enjoyed lying so much, he lied about stupid little things where there was no purpose to lie. He volunteered lies even when he wasn't being questioned. So I have trouble trying to be like Ugly the cat. As much as I want to allow myself to just be happy, I falter. I put up roadblocks and set off flares. I have a doubtful looking police officer surveying the scene, interrogating all involved as potential suspects. It sucks to have my happiness treated like a crime scene. I read the comment about Ugly before I had my happiness epiphany. My mind began its cartwheels before I could remind myself of something that I had just read only moments before. I stopped, flipped open my cell and began to write a text. "Something just occurred to me. I'm happy. It feels good." I wrote. I sent it to the person who is the main source of my happy feelings these days. I smiled. And I left it at that. I shall figure out this happy thing at some point. I feel like I'm already on my way there.