Daily Stories, Personals

A Different Kind of Happiness


Two long and terrible weeks of turmoil have passed. It is not a full turmoil, though. It is primarily an emotional turmoil, mainly because of random acts of overthinking and loss of genuine happiness. I still laugh with friends and family, find joy in eating, resting and playing with my canine sister, among many other things I enjoy doing, but, still, at the end of the day, something pierces through me, but at least I still get the chance to sleep.

I wake up, check my phone, check the fridge to find something to eat for brunch, tidy myself, commute to school, do the same old school work I do, commute back home, eat dinner, check my social networking accounts and sleep. Repeat. Every single day. Top that with abnormal cravings, fleeting moments filled with anxiety and insecurity, dire need of affection and emotional attachment from someone I haven’t even met yet and many other emotions that fill my cranium every once in a while within the span of 24 hours.

I guess I need a break, but I think I really don’t. I am stunned by the question I have left unsaid and I am in search for the answer to that same question. With this, everything seems to be impossible.

These aren’t just crappy hormonal imbalances that happen to young women like me once in every month [or maybe it is]. I reject this reason because it is too cliche to be the root cause of this blog post. But f*ck it, who cares.

Well, if you are one of my lovely readers, or just one bored cyber animal just looking for something to lay your eyes on, I’m sorry in advance if my writing is not as refined as what you can expect from a Journalism student.

Anyway, back to my feels trip.

Raised as an only child, I am used to the feeling of being alone. I know how to go through different things and situations and errands all by myself. I constantly need friends [in either human or canine form], and I maintain a good number of social involvements here and there. It is has been a mantra in my system to always let people see that I can manage things alone, that I am strong enough without anyone to help me out. My thoughts are way too advanced for my age, my inner circle of friends and family say, and I sometimes fall, and when I do, I fall hard. But I get back up, I make sure I do. I redeem myself right after, because I don’t want to be stuck in such a breakdown. I believe my life is a wheel, so I try really hard to control the extent of my happiness. I thought I can face things alone, always. Turns out, I don’t. Ultimately, I can’t. But I shouldn’t really conform to this.

I am irritated by most people and their different annoying and indifferent habits lately, and there’s the constant fight between keeping myself sane and be patient with them or go all bitchy and harsh on them. I have been splurging on food lately, like a monster ingesting almost every edible thing along its path, and I have been in this manic-depressive state of mind.

I feel like I have been hurting the feelings of some, I have stepped on their ego in some way, or I failed to accomplish something I ought to do for them.

With this I apologize.

I need a wake-up call. A drastic one. Or someone close to me just say how they see me or feel towards me. I seek truth, I seek understanding. I seek consciousness. I seek normality. I need to be back in a good state of being.

I am happy, I am sad, all at the same time. Being happy and being sad are two extremes, but I think I’m in the middle of these extremes. Sucks to be me, right?

Too much drama. It’s overwhelming, and I think I’m not making sense anymore. As if this post was something close to a form of literature the average mind will find hard to comprehend.

Laughs I share with friends and family are some of my priceless, genuinely-happy moments. My “alone” times are the saddest. If they happen to me all within 24 hours, it causes turmoil. I guess this is a different kind of happiness. A form of happiness I myself cannot fathom. A form of happiness that can spring forth from being used to negative vibes, and being able to live with it cyclically.

Turns out, these are all just hormones. I just found out when I peed. I don’t have an “Ovarian Calendar” [if that’s what it’s called], so I was surprised. But there is still a part of me doubting if this is the real reason behind this different kind of happiness.

I really, really, really, and for the nth time, really hope to post normal, positive, and reader-friendly posts soon. Sorry for this senseless banter I refer to as a ‘blog post’. On to the next one. xx


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