i have spent so long blaming the death of my grandfather for all my unhappiness. and i know, in reality, he can't be responsible for all of it. i think it just make me feel better to blame something i can't confront.
the truth is, i don't know why i was unhappy. i shouldn't haven been.
i've never been hit. i've never gone without. i've never expirienced half the hardship that many people my age have.
i grew up lower middle class. we didn't have an extravagant amount. but i always had a home, food and clothing.
the only thing in life that i can think of that makes me unhappy is uncertainty. and life is full of uncertainty.
and i think just in typing that i had an epiphany.
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