Scream & Shout

Posted on December 26, 2012


What’s with all this Christmas smugness?

I suppose only happy people feel the need to broadcast their feelings across social networks. The rest of us are too busy venting discreetly. Or silently playing scrooge, simmering in our post-xmas meat sweats.

I swear, when i’m actually really so fucking happy that it makes me wanna shout it to the rooftops, I will not tweet or share it on facebook. I’ll be too busy being so damn fucking happy I won’t have time to type. Plus i’ll know not to rub it in people’s faces. The majority of people aren’t happy. That’s a fact. There’s a stat that says like only 10% of the population are really happy. Eat that Santa.

I wanna scream and shout and let it all out – I am trapped. Trapped in a turkey sandwich with Tesco Finest cranberry sauce on one side and Lidl’s own brand margarine on the other. I don’t even know what that means really, but the margarine is supposed to represent something shit I suppose. I like cranberry sauce.

Darkness came back to bite me this festive season. I’ve been doing all the right things too. I’ve recovered from a breakdown, got my lost confidance back, been doing my knee physio, lots of reading, general exercise (although I could do more). I even sent a Christmas card to my godfather John, the one that went to prison. He wrote to me last year when I lived in Peckham, and apologised for being a bad godfather. It was the first contact we’d had since 2002 when I found out from my Mum that he did two years for something a bit too awkward to talk about on here. I kept meaning to write back, but never got round to it. He persisted though and sent me a Christmas card this time – luckily I had royal mail redelivery on my old address to my new one. In the moon pig card I sent him with a picture of a donkey on it, I told him how he’d influenced me in ways he could never realise. Him going to prison had shaped me – I don’t even know if he knew about the mentoring I did with WInston at HMP Brixton. So I told him about it.

To keep the Christmas karma intact, I also sent a Christmas card to Liz from the Beauty Spa. A year ago I was a fiver short when I had my last beauty treatment there. I’d promised i’d drop it through the door, but I then went and busted my knee (the torn ACL / meniscus I’m due to have reconstructed next month) and never dropped it round. So I stuck a tenner in the card.

Feeling reminiscent this morning took me on a trip down memory lane. I had a box of old photographs in my cupboard that i’ve been hauling from one property to another for over 10 years. Going through them made me feel sad. That girl in the photo was skinnier and happier than I remember her being.

I need to find a way to control these waves of sadness when they come.

I need to establish some emotional boundaries with myself.

When the road feels rough, and life feels like its just too much I just wanna run away. Yet I feel like i’ve been running since I can remember.

What does it take to just sit still and be happy? What do these people have that I don’t that brings happiness in facebook inducing shout outs? Can it really be the case that love equals happiness?

Now that I’ve started to feel a new found love for myself, i’m going to explore what it is that makes us conditioned to feeling this way.

Posted in: The Truth