So I wanted to update you all on how my "Happy Goal" is going. I am proud to say that it is going well. Over the past couple weeks I have been consciously counting my blessings and trying to relish in the everyday moments that make life so wonderful. (I've even been practicing REAL smiles in the mirror) :) I have become a little more dedicated and focused on school. I got a job that is also helping to keep me busy. I have sewed a couple projects I have wanted to finish and have been helping my sister sew her senior prom dress. Little things like that have done wonders in helping me realize that I do have talents and that I CAN accomplish things. Maybe I can't carry children, but by golly I can sew! :)
However, I have run into a problem that I find so frustrating. In those moments where I recognize that I am happy, I almost immediately feel guilty. Why do I feel guilty for feeling happy? I guess because on some level I feel like it is betraying the memory of what happened. Like being happy minimizes what I have been through. Which sounds so silly when I say it out loud. I feel like being happy means I have forgotten about my children. Even though I never could forget them. But what woman could be happy when she carries around that memory?
Maybe I should look at the positive. It's okay to be happy. It doesn't mean I have forgotten about them, or that I don't still care or think about it everyday. But no one ever said I am required to be sad the rest of my life because I have buried my four children. I am allowed to enjoy the things I am experiencing in life, right? I guess another part of me wonders what other people must be thinking if they see me smiling and laughing. Do they think I'm heartless?
I don't know. I think this is part of learning how to be happy again. One day at a time, right? All I know is that slowly, but surely, I am getting there. And if I don't always feel happy, "fake it til you feel it" right?
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