I always considered myself a generally happy person. In spite of life's ups and downs, it wasn't unusual to just keep smiling knowing that a new day would dawn where new opportunities would be presented. How I viewed myself and presumed others viewed me was slightly skewed from what was deeply felt ... by myself.
Not until the last couple of months did it come to my attention that I'd been wearing a mask. Yours truly was not happy. Miserable might be pushing it, but needless to say, if I was me I wouldn't want my own company. That's pretty damned sad.
Little by little the layers of yuck have peeled away as the inches of flubber have also been shed. Without a doubt my weight was allowing me to hide; to be buried. That's not to say every person who is overweight is congruently unhappy. My weight was an excuse for not pursuing romance or even attention from the opposite sex.
Zoinks! A revelation, it is.
Last week something extraordinary occurred at work. Without giving much detail -- because I feel it's detrimental to discuss such things in this forum -- I felt exorcised of the self imposed oppression and stifled happiness. Someone who doesn't know me extremely well, but well enough to promote me looked me in the face and said, "stop it! stop living in the past and look forward." In a flash like Benny Hinn smacking a drug addict on the forehead demanding that the demons 'BE GONE!', I was healed. It's as if I'd been waiting for someone to give me the permission to stop living on the negative by tethering myself to 'what had been' like a two ton anchor that was pulling me into the abyss of doom.
Be HEALED! *SMACK*
How can I help you from this day forward, my friends?