I think I'm a masochist.

It seems to me that I don't want myself to be happy. That the only time happiness seems to do me any good is when I don't have it. As soon as I get any type of mental or physical satisfaction they joy goes away. I guess it's the chase of the happiness that I need, not the happiness itself. This is a revelation I've recently come to, and it both makes me happy and severely depressed at the same time.

It's almost paradoxical, the only thing that keeps me going, gives me a reason to get out of bed in the morning is the fact that I'm not happy. Happiness just makes me feel indifferent.

I'm sitting here, three weeks before starting college and moving away from home, with a beautiful girl asleep upstairs and I don't feel anything. My hope is that the happiness is just too much for me to take in all at once. There's so much going on that I should be excited about, but I just don't feel good nor bad about any of these life-changing events.

Maybe I'm just severely over or under stimulated. Maybe once I get back into a schedule (i.e. going down to school or getting a job) I'll be able to think more clearly. During the school year I crave this sense of freedom, where I don't need to be anywhere at any given time, but as soon as I get what I want, I change my mind.

I hate being like this, it drives me fucking crazy. I want to just live my life without being jerked in every fucking direction all at the same time. I want to know what I want. I want to know what I should do to keep myself and the person I really care about happy.

Maybe I need a religion or a better belief system, something to keep my head straight and guide my actions better than the "what if" system of Trial-and-Error that I have now.

I don't know, I guess only time will tell.