My writing is better when I’m not worried about pleasing others with it. As my readership grew, my desire to keep more eyes coming back increased and the sincerity of each post diminished. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t genuine…ahh fuck it, I don’t really need to explain to anyone.
Many doors have opened for me over the last few weeks. Many days I sit in awe of how things have been unfolding, of how eerily correct the psychic has been, and of how excited I am for the future. But on the days when I see others suffering, I struggle with guilt. Why am I so happy when others are not?
I’m not quite sure how to deal with this yet. A friend of mine is in need of some major joy right now. She’s facing something that I don’t wish on anyone else…ever. My Bella is struggling too. Both of these ladies mean the world to me and, if I could, I’d take their suffering and make it my own. But I can’t. So I hate that I’m happy and celebrating while they are not.
I guess it’s one of those ugly realities to life that I hate. More than anything, really. I remember people walking away from me because they were happy and I was suffering. They didn’t know how to shut off their happiness and empathize with my devastation. I would never want to be that person and I refuse to be. But shouldn’t I allow myself to be happy too?
The question: When is it okay to celebrate your own victories in the face of others’ unhappiness?