I am a Junkie

I realized I am a junkie. I am a junkie for feeling good.

I love to feel love. I love to have fun. I love to delight in the people and in life around me. I love to delight in just about anything. I love the feeling of appreciation and awe and ease, and that warm glow that envelops me at times.

I love it. I want it. I crave it. I am a junkie for feeling good.

I don’t always feel good. I’m learning more and more that that’s okay. Just today, my daughter shared with me a quote she found on Tumblr. It starts, “The fact that you’re struggling doesn’t make you a burden. It doesn’t make you too much or too sensitive or too needy.” I guess she’s been aware that I don’t always feel good, and she’s been aware of my struggle with struggling. I’m learning to let all of that be okay.

But I, maybe like everyone else, would rather feel good. I’d rather feel all the warm, glowing emotions that so often swathe me in love and joy, and soothe me like nothing – and no one – else can.

I guess my love of love can be seen as an addiction. I see it as an addiction worth having.

If I’d rather feel love – really, really rather feel love – then I’m more likely to find a reason to feel love. If I’d rather feel love, I’m more likely to love those around me – and let their annoying habits be as unimportant as they really are. Again, would I rather be right or happy? If I’d rather feel love, I’m more likely to pick happy.

I find myself arguing stupid details with my son. Not worth it. Who cares what is actually true in this instance? I find myself complaining to my husband about little things he (or someone else) does. Not worth it. These details are trivial. Really. I find myself feeling down because something is not how I want it. It’s not happening quickly enough. Or easily enough. Or consistently enough. I question myself. I doubt myself. I lambast myself.

I stop. It’s not worth it.

Life is too short to sweat the stuff that doesn’t really matter. Life is too short to look at what I haven’t accomplished or gotten through, versus how far I’ve come. Life is too short to beat myself up for being a burden because I’m having a tough day, or to beat myself up for having a tough day.

Life is too short and I’m too addicted to feeling good – to being happy, to choosing and expressing love and appreciation and joy.

I think I’m a junkie. I think it’s actually okay.