In my earlier entry I wrote about happiness. I think I opened something by writing about this subject, cause it’s really got me thinking. I started thinking if I was able to visit me when I was younger, and asked myself as a kid would I say I am happy. Yes, I think that little kid would say he was happy. But now as I look back at that kid, I realize he wasn’t so happy. He had a wonderful mother that loved him. He had a family. He had sister’s and a brother that he loved deeply. But there was a sadness deep down. In ways as I look back at that little kid. I see him as someone that was in his own world. Escaping from all reality. There were many joys I would have liked to of experienced. Even writing this right now I have some feelings of “get over it”. Quit looking back. I sometimes think I was happy in my little world. It gave me a distraction, and I didn’t have to deal with any of the sad feelings. Then without warning my childhood was over. Sometimes I still want it back. After I left home I had to learn from scratch what it meant for me to be happy. It was like many things a trial and error kind of thing, finding out what gave me pleasure and what didn’t. I’ve gone through so many stages it seems from very outgoing, to very much in my shell and staying away from everyone. I thought I could be happy being by myself, doing things on my own. At first it was a nice freedom for me, but I soon found out I was much happier around other people, doing things together. It doesn’t depend on the other people or the actions or JUDGEMENTS of anyone else. It’s still up to me. I still enjoy my alone time as well and look forward to my meditations and quiet times. Seems I need them both. I also think sometimes of the things I did to turn happiness into unhappiness. Strangely enough I’ve been guilty of doing this at times that are supposed to be celebrations, my celebrations, like my birthday. It may have been a wonderful party all for me, but some reason inside I turned it into something I didn’t feel I was entitled causing myself much un-needed anxiety or even sabotaged it. In the past I think I even may have blamed anyone else. Last year was the first year I just let myself enjoy my birthday for what it was. It makes me sad in a way at all those birthday pasts that I ruined in some way or another. I guess what is really important is not yesterday’s memories, but today’s realities. I can enjoy things better now, because I feel I deserve it. I was once told in the past that I wouldn’t know happiness if it hit me in the face. That was mean, but I think sometimes it may have held true.