Who actually knows what's best for you? Your mom because she brought you into this world? Your dad because he's blunt and doesn't sugar coat shit? Your best friends because they see the real side of you? A stranger that has no bias to any situation with you but instead has real life experience? Could it be that only you know what's best for you? Sometimes finding out who to go to in tough times is harder than what's actually going on.

I'm that friend to everyone, the one that "knows what's best" for people. Dalton Lee Snow, twenty five years old living in good ole' Stillwater, OK. People come to me for all of their problems with no specific category of things getting them down. My boyfriend doesn't love me anymore, my job sucks, I am anxious and or depressed, I am not happy where my life currently is at, I am stressing because of money, etc. Most of the problems are simple to handle because it's only a lot to deal with at that specific time. However when it's something that causes problems with your emotions and mental health, that's when shit gets serious and crazy.

Let's go into a back story of why I think most people come to me. It'd be easier to just say "Because I've been through some shit." but we aren't here for easy. We want that nitty-gritty-juicy shit. I've broken more bones than times people have fallen in love. I've had my identity stolen. My heart has been broken before. I've been to the doctor and hospital more times than the average person has had to put air in a tire during their life time. Shitty comparison but fuck it you get the point, a lot. Identity theft was by a friend and it put me in debt and ruined my credit score, I fixed it though. My broken heart got fixed by learning to move on. The bone breaks started in first grade when I thought I could fly off a swing set after watching Mortal Kombat. All the other times were because I was chasing adventure, thrill, excitement and adrenaline. The reason I am drawn to doing that comes from a near death experience. Meningitis, the mengies as some of my friends call it. It was fourth grade football season when I got it. I wasn't even playing football that year but my older brother was. We had this big water fountain thing on the practice field that everyone could drink out of, it shot the water into the air about 2 feet. Well like any kid, I got thirsty as hell from chasing girls around and flirting with the cheerleaders during their practice, so I got a drink. That one drink changed everything, but only for me. Somehow, I don't know all the logistics about it, the meat packing company next to the field had sewage or a chemical get into the fields water supply. I was the only kid that got sick.

This is going on to long I feel like and it's drawing me away from this already scattered brain thing I am writing. But I went into a five day coma, lost so much weight I only weighed thirty five pounds, it messed up so many chemicals in my body such as over productive stomach acids and gave me a crazy high metabolism. 3% chance to wake up from the coma also, I actually came out of it around the time my parents were having to pick out what flowers to have at my funeral I believe. The worst thing it did to me was eliminate my body's ability to produce adrenaline. Meaning when I get into a fight or flight situation my brain freaks the hell out because nothing is telling it how to handle the situation. So I now live with never ending anxiety because the world is a scary fucking place and we have to fight or fly at everything. Medicine didn't work but seeing a specialist helped me learn how to control my mind and its way of handling thoughts that would normally give people anxiety. I pretty much learned to not care about anything or how it could affect me. However, I never stopped caring for or about people. That's my favorite thing to do and that's why people come to me when shit is hitting their fan. Because I can talk them down and bring out the good in the situations they are dealing with. Depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts and anything else I can talk to them about because I have been there. Never depression though because I wouldn't let shit get to me that bad, I think. Anxiety is something I beat every day. Even if it throws a few punches every now and again, I still when the round. Anxiety comes from overthinking. Overthinking about the things that happened before or overthinking about the future and what if something bad happens. Mine was thinking too much into the future because the past is full of all my good memories. The bad ones don't get me down because I'm proud of myself for getting through them. Suicidal thoughts? I've been so anxious before that the thought of ending it has come into my mind. I can't be scared if I'm not here right? I could drive my car full speed into a tree or off a bridge. Something quick you know? Because the process of a slow death would just make me too anxious to go through with it. Is that irony? I think so.

Can we get back to why I started typing this real quick? Sorry it's all over the place but I didn't even plan on writing anything today. I was about to google the question I asked in the beginning but instead thought it'd be better to answer it. It's my answer though, so it might not be yours.

I love helping people through their problems because I want everyone to be happy. I'm always happy so I want those close to me to be happy too because that creates more happiness for me. I do a pretty damn good job of it too. I have an addictive personality in the sense that I bring happiness because I never let anyone steal my happiness. I don't let other people's problems effect how I feel about myself or my life, my happiness. But what happens when I steal my own happiness?

Recently I haven't been happy. The only thing I've done, other than open my own business that I love, recently that has caused me happiness is help people with their problems. I stopped doing everything else that made me happy. Working out, spending time with my family, playing disc golf with my best friend, talking to my brothers daily and etc. I haven't felt happy lately with the other new adventures in my life, some I would prefer to keep private. Is it because I stopped doing the things I know kept me happy? This caused me to have a problem of being scared. I'm scared that I am losing myself completely. I now only doing for others to keep them happy, even if I am not happy, because I still care. I don't have to be happy to care. So do I turn to my mom because she brought me into this world? She doesn't know everything so how could she? Go to my dad because he is honest and blunt? What is he going to be blunt about though? Hit up my best friends because they know the real me? All they are going to tell me is what I have been telling them for the past years. A stranger shouldn't handle the responsibility of my shit, they've probably got their own. I talked to my best friends and got mixed reviews. One said to do what I think is best for me, the others almost made it about themselves. Seeing what they can get out of my situation, or how they can have a say in it.

The point of the matter is for now, I am not happy. I am working on getting back to doing the things that make me happy, while trying new things. Never wearing a mask during anything. If I am happy you will know I am happy and if I am not you will know too. I don't want to be selfish or hurt other people with it though. I know what is best for me and that's to be happy, it's just a struggle because me being happy might mean others don't get to be. The other people might just have to deal with that.