Happiness is a foreign concept. I've been taking my meds consistently, so i'm less depressed. I'm no longer on an emotional roller-coaster of extreme rage and extreme lethargy. That must mean I'm happy, right? I don't know how to sit with this balanced feeling. Depression and anger weigh down on me so heavily; I'm grounded. Happiness lifts me up. There are so many possibilities in happiness. This loss of control, this infinite space is daunting. I cringe when I simply say the word, "happy". The internal voice that resounds is "You don't deserve to be happy", "Happiness doesn't last". The world is not a good place. It's full of distrust, manipulation, and corruption. If I'm happy, if my emotions aren't congruent to this world-view, I must be crazy. I must be in a psychotic episode. Eventually, soon enough, I will be hit with reality and will be thrown back into a state of depression once again. How can I be happy amidst all the shit going on in the world? Because logically, I feel like I make sense. The world is fucked up -> I live in this fucked up world -> How can I not be perpetually angry? -> I must be crazy. "You don't deserve to be happy". I feel like I'm doing something wrong when I'm not feeling negative emotions, especially when I think of my mom. I pissed of my mom my entire life. How dare I be happy while the one who brought me to this earth is debilitated by depression? I feel like I don't deserve to feel this way. It will be easier to accept happiness if my mom could accept happiness. I feel like I'm cheating her...if that makes sense. Am I making any sense? Blahblahblah.
I have trouble being honest with myself about how I'm feeling. In the mornings, I'm not particularly in a good or bad mood. I just am. Somewhere in the undefined middle. But I tell myself and others that I'm anxious and irritable not only because it's easier to say, but also because I want to set the tone for the rest of my day. I want to feel anxious and irritable. I know them very well and I know hot to carry myself. If I say I'm happy or even "content", I feel like I have to behave in some sort of way that's not natural for me. I'm used to pretending I'm OK, but when I really am OK, I get lost. I feel like a phony, like I'm playing some kind of character. I feel like I'm going to throw my arms up and scream like a hysterical idiot, then combust into confetti. Just kidding. That's impossible. But you know what I mean. Right? I feel crazy. Is this what "normal" people feel on a day-to-day basis? Is this what it feels like to be alive? Or am I getting way too ahead of myself? Yea, I probably am. But I'm so confused, curious, fascinated, and overwhelmed by this surge of...increasing positivity.
I feel like a completely different person. I almost feel like I've missed out on something, like I haven't been living. I thought all the drugs, alcohol, and ED behaviors meant I was really living. Not giving a flying fuck. I mean I guess I was. Just in a different way. I feel like I've been opened up to a whole new range of possibilities. Healthy possibilities, potential for sustainable satisfaction. I feel like a kid who made friends on her first day of school and ran home to tell her parents, except I'm rambling about it here. I'm almost embarrassed about feeling this way. Like positivity and hope are things to be ashamed of. So to my boyfriend who may read this, I'm sorry if I act funky. It's because I'm feeling something very unfamiliar and I don't know how to sit with it without being totally confused and bewildered, or exploding in uncontrollable laughter. You are awesome and I love you.
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