My parent(s) wanted me to be happy. That's all they've ever said they wanted for their kids. It's taken me a lifetime to realize that happiness isn't something you can completely control. Depression runs in my family, as does self-medicating with alcohol. No matter how much you achieve, personally and professionally, you can't make yourself be happy in those circumstances. Until I started to take my mental health seriously, anything that felt like happiness was muted at best. In order to meet the expectations of my parents, I sought out achievements, new things to do and be good at, because I thought that happiness was the absence of boredom or sadness. Now, though, I've found happiness by not achieving and not meeting my parents' expectations. I'm quitting my job and finding myself.