the alter ego of pleasant

 
its not easy being a willful pollyana.  i've been one for the past ten years or so. 

depression hit me at 18-19, i was an inconsolable wreck for no good and obvious reason.  i had no idea what was up my ass so, naturally, i didn't know how to remedy it.  i would cry at the drop of a pin, in the middle of a volleyball game, anytime, anywhere. 

one morning, before waking up, before i even opened my eyes, tears were already falling in rivers.  that was my rock bottom.

that same day, i vowed to myself never to be miserable again.  happiness, i decided, was in my full control and the only  way to get there was self-delusion.

self-delusion.  i have read the book and written my own interpretation of it.  its what keeps this girl happy. 

you're not stupid or naive.  you see the bad but you dont allow your mind to process it.  you put on your best pair of rose-colored glasses and focus on the good and tell yourself repeatedly that this is the only thing that matters because this is what makes you happy. 

most times, it helps you sleep better at night.

some times, the demons come and you're forced to face them because you're just too tired to fight them off already. 

and in these few moments of weakness, life shoves reality down your throat and bullies you into swallowing it.

and you reach the conclusion, after 29 years of observation and experimentation, that life fundamentally sucks big time.