When things start out bad – it’s easier to be happy. At least that’s my theory. I could be wrong. It’s not uncommon to hear a miserable life explained away by a terrible childhood. But that wasn’t my trajectory.
When I was 18 someone – I can’t remember who, told me – “these are the best years of your life, enjoy them now”. I remember thinking to myself, if I believed that, I’d shoot myself in the head right now.
But I didn’t believe it – and I’ve always believed in hope. I’ve never understood the exhortation to not get one’s hopes up. Why not? Are we not strong enough to cope with disappointment?
My hopes are always up. And I am frequently disappointed. And I sometimes wonder if I hadn’t had such a miserable childhood would I be better able to realize my dreams? Would I be disappointed less often? Or would my expectations be higher and my disappointment more profound and harder to cope with.
I don’t know.
I had a very bad year in 2023. My husband went crazy and gave away $100,000 we didn’t have. I struggled to stay focused, to stay the course, to be okay.
And I am. I didn’t make enough money last year, I didn’t exercise enough, my son was unemployed and my daughter was struggling with her father’s aberrant behavior. My housekeeper keeps breaking things and she just won’t put that damn measuring cup with the rest of the measuring cups even though I’ve been telling her for 8 years where it goes.
And yet, I love my life.
And while I’ve told myself forever that I don’t believe in Forecasting – I’m so glad I knew that guy was full of shit.
Day 9 (or is it 10?)