Windows

Windows are many. Some are small, some are tall, some are large and some are wide. Some are shuttered. Some are open but all are unique.

I've had a journal online since 2004. I've created other journals on other platforms, delved into all those little social sites and have come back with a select few I find enjoyable. Those journals I've kept I've tried desperately to keep up. I am apparently an overachieving procrastinator because most have fallen to the wayside and made little progression beyond 'hi this is me and this is what I want to do'. It's frustrating really to want so badly to have one special little place to share all but know that you just can't seem to stick with it. Excuses run rampant: 'that one's all writing and fandom-y stuff,'this one was a failed attempt at discussing my art journaling,' 'this one just didn't get beyond entry number four' and 'that one I just don't have time for.'

The doubts creep in piling one on one: who will read it? Do I really want to share that? Am I ready to do this? I'll wait a little longer. No one will ever care what I have to say or do. No one really cares, so what's the use? Yeah, I've been there multiple times, recycling those same old excuses and more. I've tried the "fresh start" approach of 'no one knows me so go for it', but get upset when no one follows me or seems remotely interested. The doubts creep in again and the blog, journal, whatever again falls to the wayside soon to be forgotten, returned to only when I have a desire to share something and become too intimidated by who knows what to continue.

We've all been there I'm sure, some more than others. Me? I'm a pro at it, so why am I here again? Why do I feel this strange desire to try again and again? Why do I struggle so much with everything? I don't know. I'm not really sure, but damn it I want to do SOMETHING more.

Lately I've been toying with these very things. I'd like to think I'm a happy person. I have a beautiful home. I have a small yard. I own a car, and I have my writing but I'm still depressed. My job is one of the biggest stresses around, not really the job itself but the people I work with. I come back from a trip feeling happy, excited, great and enter that building only to be slammed in the face by negativity. It builds and builds and within a half hour my happy mood has dimmed, darkened, winked out only to be replaced with frustration, depression, sadness and hindered by despair. I try to stay positive, try to stay afloat but these weights pull me down and I sink down, down, down...

I have to do something to regain happiness. I can't leave the job or I'll lose the house I've owned for just over a year. It wold crush me if that happened and there's no other places that seem to be hiring, so I go back to thinking. I opened my art journal and wrote down some words, just a few simple words to think on: What are you passionate about?

I wrote that question out at the beginning of the week and sadly have little listed, so I expanded the page incorporating other questions to help me along the way:

What can't you wait to share, to shout out to the world? WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY?

What makes you happy?

I'm nearly forty now and you'd think this question would be an easy one to answer. It troubles me that it is not.