It’s easier to tell yourself that things were better, in the past. Or will be better, in the future, when some indeterminate quality is met.
The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Life is always better in hindsight. Or foresight. Or if you’re looking from the outside, in.
I can look back, now, at life as it was in the TinyTrainTown, and I can tell myself that things were easier, then. Because I had my family and friends there. Because I wasn’t so stressed about the complexities of life, the things I just can’t seem to do.
If I let it, my mind will repeat those sentiments, over and over. Despite the fact that I know none of them to be true.
But it’s easier, if I do that. Because if I make it a location thing, a circumstantial thing… then I don’t have to do anything to fix it.
The Most Amazing Man reminded me a few days ago that happy is not just a switch you turn on. There’s more to it than that. I have all the tools to do this, to deal with my own head. To skew things so I look at them differently.
And I beat myself up because right now I just… can’t. And I don’t know why.