Someone once cornered me in the hallway and asked “Stephanie, why are you unhappy?”. I said I was fine. He dragged me into a room and made it clear that he wouldn’t let me go until I said something, so I made up a ridiculous story that might have satisfied his curiosity. (Chismoso, hmph.)
I was not unhappy. I’m still happy, energetic, cheerful–basically still the same person everyone knows. I’m just dissipated. Frustration breeds dissatisfaction and it’s unhealthy.