We can all try to hide from it, but there are things we used to care about that we no longer care about. Each person is unique in how this applies personally to them. Some people quit caring if other people judge them, while other people might quit caring about whether they are fully made-up before going into public. We might even think that not caring about those things is mentally healthy.
The problem with drawing a conclusion with that little information is that we are really projecting an answer to what we imagine those general statements mean to us. We imagine that not caring if other people judge us means we are retaining control of our lives. We imagine that not caring if we are fully made-up for the day before going in public is part of maturing. To some degree, perhaps even in most cases, those would likely be correct conclusions.
For many, many years, I lived with the belief that if everybody else in the world would only conform to my standards, then that elusive peace and happiness I sought would come to fruition. My unresolved issues had accumulated to the toppling point, exponentially intensifying with increased frequency and duration my feelings of both desolation and despair. My set of friends was nearly empty, and I was questioning whether or not I even liked myself.
One day, out of nowhere, a package arrived addressed to me. In it was a box, and a simple, unsigned note saying only "I hope this helps you." Inside the box was an assortment of books, tapes, and videos. The topics varied, but the common theme was ‘taking responsibility for my own feelings and actions.’
Happiness resides just above as the air to the vast sea of depression. Tho' not landed, there is much company adrift.
