The Big Issue and a Small Beep

When I first started this blog, the grand length of time being about a month ago, I was planning on writing only when I was really, really happy. You know those times when you have to admit to yourself that things are just good now. But a little thing changed that. 

I walked up to town to put some money in to the bank, that in itself is a good feeling. I was going to buy myself a keyring for my house keys next as a treat but decided against it. (I'm that lame of a person.) Instead I paid £2 for a Big Issue, something I very rarely do. I, like most people, turn away. I don't like being reminded me of my failure to give. I do give to charity but nowhere near as much as I would like to. I think charity works in two ways: you help others and in the more selfish of reasons - you feel good about yourself. I think sometimes I focus too much on the selfish reasons. 

I'll be honest here though, putting a smile on the guy's face made me feel good about myself. I was happy to make someone else happy. Like I said, I had just put some money in the bank and it felt wrong not be generous. And more importantly than that - it does help. 

This wasn't the little thing, though. 

I went to the library - I was wandering round town, enjoying the sunshine after the rain of yesterday - and I got out two books. Lord of the Flies and The Yellow Wallpaper - two books that have long been 'To Read' List. Side note - the fact I have a 'To Read' list makes me quite happy. Especially because it involves quite a few classics and makes me feel like a more well read person. 

Anyway, there was a beep as my library card was scanned and in an instant I was back in my childhood. There's a library, well - used to be, across my house and I used to always go there and take out books. I read them in a flash. I used to take out the same books over and over again. And by hearing that little beep, I could recount my visits to the library, hearing that exact same sound. I was there again, a child, with new books and a sudden, strong rush of a love of reading. 

Long story short, I think by setting up this blog with the intention of only writing ground breaking happy moments is setting myself up for diaster. I've always said I prefer unexpected happiness rather than trying to convince yourself you are (hello certain people on social network sites with boasting updates) So by writing about the little things as well, I'll remember to appreciate them just as much. 

Oh wow, I really did not mean to end this as cheesily at that. 

A Puzzling Realisation

I am starting to realise just how happy my life is and that realisation isn’t met with the relief you think it would be bring. My initial response is somewhat puzzled.  

You see, I am quite the pessimistic person. I am an over worrier and more often than not I assume things will go wrong. I expect the worst and maybe just a little of part of me hopes for the best. So to find myself on my bedroom floor, looking back over the past three years of my life in the form of yearbooks, scrapbooks and photo albums, something dawns on me that I’ve never quite properly grasped before.

I’m happy.

I don’t mean to say that I am forever your typical whiney teenager of the internet. Yes, I have esteem issues and avoid my reflection and associate the word ugly with myself more often than is healthy. But I am also constantly trying to savour memories for myself and the good things about my life.

My room for my first year of University 

This has happened a lot for me the past year since it has been my first year at university as well as the best summer I’ve ever had. Whether it's the feeling of laughter during pre drinks or the realisation of the fact I am actually a student and made it. The feeling of being in a crowded festival at Portugal, watching Mumford and Sons in the sunset. Or on a beach and the realisation I’ve made two of the best friends – there I would say I could of possibly asked for – but, at the risk of sounding cheesy, if I had asked I think it would have been asking too much.

Optimus Alive in Portugal

I am not a boastful, nor arrogant person (see afore mentioned esteem) but I will forever strive to remember what it feels like to be content. Little moments when I will admit to myself that this is good and I don’t want it changing. This can be anything from dancing to a song in a club, rather drunk and feeling freedom. Or just sitting at home in an evening in with my family, all of us drinking tea and laughing at something stupid one of us has said.

When we all watch Breaking Bad and drink tea

I’m aware this isn’t the most coherent of things but, you see, I’m not feeling quite coherent. I’m beginning to realise how many of those moments I’ve had. Sometimes they’re more than moments, they’re days. Times that I am, put quite simply, happy.

Even so, I still worry and ,yes, things do go wrong for me. Cue mention of having three phones nicked in the space of a month, drunken mistakes and being judged.

I think, what I’m trying to get at, is that right now I wouldn’t want to change a thing in my life. Which is saying something and it's taken me a long time to come to this. Of course, at this moment in time the worrier is me jumps up on my shoulder and with a flourish takes me forward two years down the line.

Out of university.

Debts.

Little job prospects.

Recession.

Taxes.

Responsibilities.

To those points, which I am highly aware will make me cry later in life, for now I argue back with these:

Out of university – those three years were worth it and you know it.

Debts – on a degree you enjoyed. On at least one summer that was incredible.

Little job prospects – write a book and get it published, it’s what you’ve always wanted. Don’t stop trying until you do. In the meantime, attempt with the media or at least pick a nice shop. Or supermarket with nice food.

Recession – the government will always fuck up, you don’t have to.

Taxes – Alright, they’re just a ballache but everyone has to deal with them. Avoiding them would be worse for you in the long run.

I am happy now.

I have been for 19 years.

I have had the sturdiest and strongest friendships as well as family who I love more than anything.

It’s not one of those things where you try to convince yourself you’re happy. It’s a realisation I have stumbled across and that makes it all the sweeter. With writing this, I want to try and maintain this thought process.

Or at least have something to look back on to try and remember what it felt like.