Today, I heard myself saying
old words.
Young words actually,
as they circle back
to a time when I was
lost.  
But they stem from times
that are old to me.
So,
old words to me.
Things and thoughts
I hadn’t thought or spoken
in a while.

I had a very blessed childhood.
More stuff than I needed,
never wanting for anything.
But early in the game
I could sense where it was headed.
It could be great for me,
if I thoroughly applied myself
(which I never did).
A clear path to what gets defined
as success,
but which I never bought into.
Because,
and here come the old words,
“the deal is not good enough”.
It’s a dirty deal.

Even for me,
with my over privileged ass,
the sacrifice was too big.
Too much of something
I didn’t even know I needed
or even existed,
had to be given up
to reach a place,
where I felt
I definitely never
ever
wanted to land.
Even though those types of places
keep getting all the shine and praise.
At all costs
trying to sell the lie
and mostly they succeed.
Some believe it.
Some don’t.
But I trained myself to believe it,
because I’m a coward, I guess.
Buying myself time,
leaping from teenage angst
to depression
to burn-out
to midlife crisis
to darkness.
And in between,
bouts of energy
hope
drive
wonder.
But as you’ve guessed:
the deal is still not good enough.

You may think
I’m unhappy with my own life.
But I’m not.
On the contrary,
even today,
I’m still blessed with more than I need
and laden with the feeling I’m undeserving of it.
My own, personal deal is great.
But the deal in general
is bad,
very bad.
So bad,
it makes even my superb deal
taste like
death and decay.
I cannot enjoy what I have,
knowing
while being powerless
to change a single thing.

Somehow,
I’ve always understood
unhappiness better than happiness.
I’ve always leaned into it.
And I see this in many of us.
In growing numbers of us.
Is it because,
deep down,
we all feel as if
the deal were not good enough?