I hate being happy.

Ok so perhaps that was a slight exaggeration... I don't hate being happy. But now that I find myself in a good place and on the way to contentment, I find myself thinking back fondly and almost longing for days when my life was in tatters and I was unhappy and discontent. Is it because I am scared of stagnancy and *gasp* boredom? I honestly couldn't tell you. My psyche is a hot mess and I would much rather just watch TV than suss out whatever the heck is going on there.