As George Costanza pointed out, “it’s not a lie, if you believe it.”

I want to be the upbeat, optimistic, inspiring, delightful, chipper, random, funny, insightful happy blogger that everyone loves to read to make them smile. But the way I really feel is that 2017 is going to suck, just like 2016 sucked and every year before that.

A friend of mine (and by that I mean someone on facebook that I haven’t seen for 30 years) posted, as this year began, that many positive things happened to him in 2016 and he was looking forward to an even better 2017, and I thought for a minute, “wait, what?”

The concept seemed so foreign to me, that I didn’t even know it existed. People feel that way? I want that. But I won’t lie to myself just to be happy. 

2016 sucked, and I have no reason to think that 2017 won’t be worse. That is who I am.

But, what if I’m wrong? What if I’m being honest about how I feel, yes, but I’m just flat out wrong about what I think? Is it just as likely that my life is awesome, and I don’t even realize it? Can I choose to be happy, because it’s just as likely? Do I have to be sure?

Is it a lie if it might be true?

George?

Another friend of mine, who I do see in real life, when you ask him how he is, he alwasy responds, “never better”. It can’t possibly be true, but he doesn’t have the problem that I have lying, and I think it’s nice to have a stock response, so I chose, “it could be worse” for mine. That’s always true. My life could be a lot worse. I’m privileged even to be able to complain about my life. 

But it almost seems, sometimes, like you need bad stuff to happen to you in order to write things people want to read. My theory is that people with baggage write better because they write more. They write more because they have to write in order to work through their shit.  As hard as writing is, life without writing is harder for them. For someone like me, someone who has it too easy, writing is comparatively difficult.

My life is good, if looking at it objectively from someone else’s perspective. I should be grateful. I’ve got shelter and food and family. Not too many bad things happen to me. Though it’s not all about avoiding bad things. And it’s not all about having good things either, or being proud of the things you have, like your children. It’s also about being proud of yourself. I have always felt like I am not who I want to be, like I fail again and again to achieve my personal goals, which I do. 

But what if, what if I just decided that my life is great? What if I could not believe my good fortune? What if every day my life just comes up roses, and I can’t even understand what I’ve done to deserve it? Can I support such a position with evidence? I think so. I might start expecting it to continue. I might start feeling like everything I ever try to do bears fruit. And then what would become of the self fulfilling prophecy? That story I never wrote? I write it. Learn Spanish? Por supuesto que si.

It’s not a lie if you don’t know that it’s false.

If it were true, and it seems like it is, honestly, then that means I’ve been wrong my entire life. I’ve actually been lying to myself for about 50 years in the name of honesty.

Needlessly unhappy for 50 years, if you like truth, (whoop) there it is.

So I’m happy, bro. I’m so fucking happy.

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