Deserving of Happiness

I just read this sentence in a book: "As is the case for many, the story I told myself for years was that I didn't deserve to be happy."
And I thought: I have never told myself this story. I have always thought: I deserve to be happy. Why the hell am I not happy?

Is this the problem? Do I expect too much? And if I have been expecting too much, is it only that I am not driving enough of the process myself that I am not happy?

I know I can't be dependent on other people for my happiness. I know I can't just wait for things to work themselves out. Contentment is work. (Though I think I might just now be coming to a more full realization of that statement. Thanks summer of wake-up call.)

I kind of feel like a self-centered ass admitting that I think I deserve happiness, but I think that's cultural somehow. Humility is the prize right now for some reason, but so often it has a tendency to come off sounding false. You know, the starlet of the moment saying:"I don't understand why I'm a sex symbol" after she's taken her clothes off in six movies or "I'm not really that talented. I was just in the right place at the right time." That may be true, but come on! Take some credit for yourself!

I also wonder if people who believe they don't deserve to be happy wind up happier because they don't have high expectations to begin with? I lean towards not. It seems like work to me to constantly be convincing yourself in a happy moment: "This isn't going to last. I don't deserve this."

I've been livin' side by side with bipolar disorder for probably most of my life, but for ten years, it's been more obvious (and I've only had a label for three). I should be the queen of the "This isn't going to last because I don't deserve this" line of thinking, but I'm not. I can't stand it.
I think that, more than anything, is why my low points bother me so much. When I get low for no apparent reason, then I think: "I don't deserve this! Why on earth is this happening to me?"

In side note:
I will admit to moments, when DB has been right there with me through the storm of it, that I've thought: "I don't deserve you. Why are you here?" And I've asked often enough, that I think there is some blame for this summer's fall-out on my toes. (Just like the person who convinces him or herself that they don't deserve happiness, I did my work convincing DB that I didn't deserve him and that everything was irrevocably fucked in my brain.)

Well I'm done. 'cause it doesn't fit with my usual mode of operation. I have recently spent a lot of time with friends who have known me forever. The expereince has been more amazing than usual. It's helped me remember who I am.

Certainly, a combination of things has brought me here, and I have to work to maintain it, but it was quite lovely just now to realize that "I told myself I didn't deserve to be happy" does not resonate with me at all. Gave me enough pause that I had to stop reading to "scribble" some stuff down.

I like it.