Sometimes I feel like I'm the only calm person in the world.
Maybe it's because almost everyone I meet lives in such a constant state of worry. They act as if life is a constant migraine that they must suffer through. Good days come and they might seem alright, but with every single disconcerting event that happens to them, they go right back to questioning their very reason to exist.
If you wake up and see that it's storming, you don't think 'Oh this rain will never stop. It will keep raining until the day that I die. Why should I even live in the rain!'
Every busy weekend, every long work week, every breakup, accident, fight or financial trouble, people go right back into this stressed state.
Am I so odd, so different, simply because I don't have a panic attack every time there's a problem?
People spend so long searching for deeper meaning, and still display an incredible amount of short-sightedness.
Shouldn't it have the opposite effect? Every little hardship doesn't mean some deity is spitting in your face. It doesn't mean you're cursed or that your whole life will be nothing but pain.
I live around these people, who are plagued with this constant fear.
They stare into the abyss of existence, and shrivel up when it stares back into them, too afraid to jump.
There is nothing in the void, except what you make of it. You look into the shadows and see what you want to see. Your fears shape your reality.
Physical injury. Emotional pain. Loss, betrayal, health and financial issues...
I am not afraid of these things. What beauty there is in my life, I appreciate. Even the painful things are beautiful, in their own way.
Does that make me insane? Maybe.
But I'm happier than most people I know. Decidedly so.
I still might complain about things, (In these blogs especially) but I've never thought I would be better off dead. Giving up is not an option for me.