Grey Days

It is insane to think that, while this blog is about being happy and making the most out of every moment, that I will actually succeed in being happy all the time. That wouldn't be interesting to read, anyway.

I have always been prone to depression, or cynicism, or something like that. I think it comes with being a creative person. I think some of us feel things in a different way--not better, not worse than other people, but just differently. I am easily affected, let's say. Today I am feeling particularly affected. But, I made myself think it through, and ask, Why is it a Grey Day? (What I call my down days)

And you know what? I realized I'm down because things are so good. Right. That's a really Irish Catholic thing to say. Let me explain.

I'm down because I'm writing for a website and loving it. I love that I can say "I'm a writer," and the proof is somewhere visible, people can read it, it's not just in a folder saved to my desktop. I'm down because I'm making more money than I've ever made, and I'm dangerously close to an official raise and promotion. I'm down because I have one of the most amazing men in the world cooking in the kitchen we share, eager to spend his days with me, and even though we work together and live together, I am always excited to the point of grinning when I get to see him again. I'm down because my relationship with my mother has never been better, because I have more friends than days of the week to make plans with them, because I'm healthy and so is my dog, because I had enough money to go on vacation this year and I'm already planning for next summer's trip.

Now, to explain.

I'm down because my father was a writer and would have been so proud to see me doing the same. He would have loved it. I'm down because he doesn't know, and, really, wouldn't know me. He died when I was six years old. I'm mostly sad that he never knew me, and so many things I'm doing are things he did, things he would relate to. I'm sure we would have gotten on famously. I'm down because last year was so hard, that I can't help thinking all of these wonderful things will pass, that I can't be lucky for very long. I'm sad that it took me this long to realize how incredible my mother is and that I wasted so many years there. I feel guilty that I'm healthy and so happy when other people are not, people a lot more deserving than myself, probably. I have so much, and by chance, and that doesn't seem fair. If I believed in god, or gods, or something like it and them, I would reason that there is only so much good to go around and since I have a plethora, that soon someone else will have their turn, and everything wonderful will come crashing down. 

But then I realized two things. First, there is no one or nothing keeping score, constantly maneuvering a pie chart of having and not having. Secondly, if I'm waiting for something to go wrong, it will. Because things always go wrong. And if I'm waiting for it, I won't see it as one hiccup in an otherwise pristine path, but I'll say, "See?! Exactly what I'm talking about!" Self-fulfilling prophesies, etc. 

So, while I do think it is healthy to allow oneself grey days, I am also going to remind myself that what is making me sad is that my life is that wonderful--so wonderful that I don't want a thing to change. So beautiful, and beauty always affects creative types. Time to get over myself. Time to enjoy, even if there is someone keeping tally of my good fortune, always at the ready to even the score.

My reference to Khayyam for today's post is this stanza:

"But here are wine and beautiful young girls,

Be wise and hide your sorrows in their curls,

Dive as you will in life's mysterious sea,

You shall not bring us any better pearls."