I tend to be happiest when things aren't technically going well for me. Strangely enough, I'm quite content in life at the moment, although I don't seem to have much direction at present. Not being able to get jobs I feel qualified for is very frustrating and stressing about what I will actually do with my life isn't very pleasant, although I generally actually feel quite content with life right now and feel that happiness isn't always greatly influenced by events happening in my life.
I remember when I worked at camera house in northlands mall full time during one of the nicest summers we have had, and I would walk to work singing to myself and smiling a lot because I was just happy for no reason. I was working in a minimum wage job in a noisy mall with a nasty, boring as fuck manager named Karina for 9 hours a day, following a generic retail script to entice customers into buying overpriced coffee mugs and mousepads with their loved ones faces on them, but I was somehow happy and excited about my life. I look back on the summer following my father's death as one of the most euphoric periods of my life. Life is strange like that. I guess it all sunk in later and has affected me in ways I didn't expect, ways that are much different than most unfamiliar with grief would expect. I look back on the weeks following the february earthquake as a positive time in my life. Why? I'm not sure. On the contrary, when I expect to have a good time or expect to enjoy a certain period of my life, often my brain decides otherwise and freaks the fuck out. It makes no sense.
Back to the subject of my father's death. I am very open about his death and the events which happened prior and following, and like the fact that I am comfortable in doing so. I do often worry that I am making those I discuss it with uncomfortable. Maybe my openness can be socially unacceptable from time to time? I think people assume that when someone has lost a loved one, they don't want to be "reminded" of the death. In my experience, I feel I can best deal with grief by talking about my father and the experience of his death, rather than keeping it inside. I want to talk about it as much as I can. I understand that some people wish to keep it to themselves and are uncomfortable sharing with others. After my father's death, I received two weeks of communication from friends regarding how I was etc, and then it stopped and noone asked anymore or talked about it. I am not upset by this, just found it interesting. Maybe after two weeks people assume you want to get on with your life normally and don't want to talk about it anymore? Seems like some sort of unspoken rule I didn't know about.
I think my desire to openly discuss such issues comes from suppressing my sexuality for 6 years. Dealing with something which (at the time) was horrendously painful and contained only within my own mind, has lead me to feel as though I need to express everything openly, and also to be as honest about everything as I can be. Containing all that is not healthy at all and I wish noone ever had to experience that, especially for no good reason. That fucking closet can suck my dick.
