I’ve been thinking a lot about why people (including me) feel unhappy for no reason. And I keep coming back to this one thing: self-obsession. Not in the narcissistic way everyone talks about, but in the quieter way, constantly thinking about yourself.
It’s weird, because you don’t notice it at first. You just wake up and your brain starts running, my life, my goals, my problems, my image, my future. And when that’s the only thing on repeat, even good things don’t feel good anymore. Everything turns into “me, me, me” and somehow that’s exhausting.
I’ve noticed the times I feel most okay are when I’m actually outside of myself. When I’m helping someone, or listening, or just existing without thinking about how I’m existing. When life isn’t a mirror all the time.
I guess what I’m saying is; self-obsession feels safe because it’s familiar, but it’s also the trap. The more we zoom in, the less we actually see.
Maybe happiness isn’t about fixing yourself every second. Maybe it’s about forgetting yourself for a while.