Trying to Figure Out the Impenetrable Mystery That Is Me

There are parts of my life with which I am always satisfied: my children, for instance, and living in Town.

There are parts of my life with which I am permanently dissatisfied: my nonexistent sense of smell, and the fact that K lives six hours away.

Then there are things about my life that sometimes seem fine but sometimes seem terrible. I've thought, for a long time, that when those things seem terrible, I am miserable. But I've realized, lately, that it might be the other way around: when I am miserable, those things seem terrible. So lately I've been trying, when I feel miserable, not to obsess about how terrible things are, but rather to simply note that I feel miserable and try not to think about anything meaningful until I feel better. Yesterday, at least, it worked.

Note: I am not talking about truly terrible things. Truly terrible things are self-evidently terrible, and they make you miserable, and you deal with them, if you can, or suffer, if you can't.

Note 2: Thinking more about the things with which I am not satisfied: I actually don't spend a lot of time dwelling on them, that is, on things like my nonexistent sense of smell, or K's absence, or even S's work schedule, which always shocks people, and then they say things like "I don't know how you do it," or "Doesn't that make you crazy?" and I say, "No, it's just the way it is." I think I have a strong sense of my own agency: if something is not working, I should be able to do something about it. But if I can't do something about it, I am good at just letting go and not letting it bother me. Hmm, is that really true? I am incapable of letting go of so many things, which makes this statement seem very uncharacteristic, but it also seems true: I just don't spend a lot of time worrying about my anosmia or S's work schedule. Maybe, though, that's why the things about which I vacillate (sorry, I'm not being specific on purpose, but if you know me, you can probably guess what I'm talking about) are so hard for me: because I can't seem to get to the point where I can let go, but neither do I feel capable of doing something about it.

Edited to add:

Note 3: I struggled with the wording on the first two paragraphs, going back and forth between "satisfied" and "happy with," neither of which were exactly right. Now I'm thinking, perhaps, "like" would be the best way to phrase it.

Note 4: That sense of agency I mention in Note 2 is the thing that most significantly marks me as middle class.