happiness

I haven't met the new me yet

One of the most annoying things my mother has ever said to me is …

You have to choose to be happy

She’s driven this sentiment home my entire life. To which I have scoffed because nobody can “choose” to feel anything.

What does she know anyways. She’s naturally happy … except for she’s not.

She’s fought hard her entire life to be happy. Tough childhood, rocky relationships, widowed young; with a whole whack-load of kids, bills, jobs always piling up. The strongest person I know, my mother chooses to find joy wherever she can. She always has.

That’s not to say I haven’t seen her miserable, I have. Out of self-preservation, she decided from a very young age not to live there. My mother finds the fun wherever she goes.

I wish I could travel back to the 1950’s and take that little girl, in the long wool skirt with the sausage-curls in her hair, hold her in my arms and tell her it all turns out ok.

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happiest

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My mom and I have had a couple big fights about this philosophy. Because when I was at my rock bottom (I wasn’t), having lost everything in my life (I hadn’t) living with an ex-boyfriend from a decade ago (that bit is true). Pretty much the LAST thing you want to hear is someone say …

You have to choose to be happy

Like fuck right fucking off, mom.

I couldn’t “choose” to be anything in that moment, but if we’re choosing … I chose to roll up into a ball on my ex’s couch, cry my eyes out, and drink a baba of white wine every night for a year, or two (it was three).

My depression had been mostly manageable my entire life. Anxiety was more my mental illness of choice, with a little OCD sprinkled in for flavor. I would swing into a low, but it would only last a day, week maybe, before I pulled out.

This time was different.

It’s not that I wanted to die. I wanted to evaporate. Dissipate into vapor. Float into the ethers.

There was no happiness to be found anywhere.

I needed help, which by the way is the hardest thing for me to ask for. I called my doctor, she passed me off to a mental health intake specialist, who passed me off to a psych evaluation person, who passed me back to my primary care physician, who passed me off to a counselor once they had all determined I “wasn’t that bad.” and thank god I wasn’t because it took months to finally speak to someone.

I’m lucky I have a beautiful son who I would walk through fire for, which was more than enough to keep myself on this planet. Even still, I can understand feeling like there is nothing to grasp onto.

If you’re feeling that, I am begging you to pinpoint something, anything. A tiny lighthouse in the roughest sea. Anchor yourself there. Hold on with everything you have until another little lighthouse appears. If you don’t see anything, see me. Hold on to me.

Turns out bootstraps don’t pull-up as easy as one might imagine.

Slowly but surely I am finding out who I am on the other side of that time. If it feels like the dark cloud might follow you forever, I promise you, it won’t. Talk to your doctor (I’m not one, shocking I know), get as much help from family, friends, co-workers as you can. Keep speaking up even when it feels like nobody’s listening. You would be surprised who might understand what you’re going through; a lot of times it’s the person who looks like they have it all figured out.

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my mom, my son.

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Although I haven’t yet mastered my mother’s art of choosing happiness, there are some things that make me really happy. I am choosing to notice them more, it helps.

Writing

Coffee dates

Going on walks

Iced green tea in the morning

A really good sandwich and a diet coke

Having a sleepover at my best friend’s house

Sending voice notes back and forth with a cute guy

The way my son smells the teaspoon of vanilla every time we bake cookies

Listening to the same song on repeat

Fresh baked bread with salty butter

Driving with the windows down

Seeing cows in a field

Girls Weekend

Making soup

Road trips

Naps

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best friend sleepover

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I’m not happy because everything is perfect, I’m deciding to be happy despite everything not being perfect.