I can remember that for many years I was in a state of deep unhappiness, if not depression. I'm reluctant to throw the term depression around because I was never and have never been diagnosed with it, but I always felt it was a depression. This was especially true my second year of university. I, who have always loved school, hated going to class, to the point where I did skip classes often. I also didn't want to do readings. I didn't want to go to lectures or seminars and when I did go, I didn't actively participate, which is not only important to the classes, but it's also important to how I learn (I'm not one who can learn academics by myself). One thing I remember specifically is that I stopped attending my Creative Writer's Club workshops and events. If you know me, you know writing is my life, and the fact that I suddenly just stopped caring is a huge red flag for me. From what I've read of depression, having a sudden apathy towards things you once cared about is a big part of it.
It got to the point that I was seriously considering quitting school and even quitting life. I feel like I've had a lot of dark moments in my life (in particular throughout grades five to eight), but I think this was probably the lowest point at which I had been.
Why didn't I "quit life", as I have so worded it? There are a number of things that began happening that led me to where I am now. One of the key things that I remember is that during that time I reconnected with a childhood friend, and for all I harass him now, I very much value and appreciate him. That's not to say that my other friends were worthless to me, but it helped in a way to have that voice return to my life. Indeed, it is somewhat because of and for him that I write this, because I see his struggles now, and for all I try to help, I just can't seem to do so. I don't know how to break through, but he keeps bringing up how far I've come and I'm hoping that elaborating on it a bit more will help in his understanding of just how I got here. Maybe it will come of some use to him, or maybe even others.
While I was in that state of depression, I was doing a lot of what I guess people would call "soul searching." To me, that just sounds melodramatic and fictional, but essentially, I was just trying to figure out some things about myself (still am) and that's partially what was throwing me into the state in which I was. I came across and identified what I consider to be my problems (only a few of which I will touch on in this entry), but I didn't know what to do with them or, more pressingly, how to fix them. The lyrics I felt best fit me at that time comes from the band Brand New: "Ask me what it's like to have myself so figured out. I wish I knew." I felt like I had myself figured out, but I still felt...broken, for lack of a better word. I had no idea how to apply or manipulate the knowledge I had gained of myself.
And then one day I knew.
I didn't really know how to fix my problems, but I came to the realization that what I needed to be happy was to know and more importantly believe that I deserved to be and could be happy. I'm of the opinion that people feel like happiness should come to them, but I think that we must find it or see it right before us and be willing to accept it. If we don't accept it, then we have nothing.
I think I'm oversimplifying here. I need to backtrack and elaborate on something here, or bring it to light.
While in the depressive state, and even years and years before that, I was both consciously and yet unconsciously practicing what I call "the sickness mentality." What do I mean by that? In popular culture of the Western World, we are becoming more and more aware of disorders and illnesses, mental and physical alike, and are beginning to discuss them more. Shows such as Intervention, Obsessed, and Hoarders come to mind specifically, but also Dr. Phil, Oprah and the likes participate in these sorts of discussions. I think awareness is fantastic, but the problem that I see with it, and that I allowed myself to become wrapped up in, is that it promotes a sort of victimization. My problems are all the fault of this mental illness or this physical disorder, so you should pity me and I'll throw myself a pity party while I'm at it. Not only that, but these sorts of shows separate use and make us feel this twisted kind of special or a sense of twisted entitlement that only leads to isolation and being miserable. It leads to this unhealthy mindset that I at the very least embraced and trapped myself in.
Although I've not yet been diagnosed, I know that I have at the minimum three mental disorders, but I suspect as many as four or five. The one I'm most comfortable speaking about openly is Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD), which I'm planning to go more into detail with in another entry. In any case, because of these disorders, these parts of myself which I had "figured out", I felt alone and in a way like I should embrace them all the more because that's what the media was teaching me. True, these television programs promote getting help, but not all of us have the means, knowledge, or the courage to do so because something else that media has taught us is that we shall be ridiculed for our problems, especially mental ones. More often than not, people are also very keen on belittling each other's problems by saying things like some starving kid in Africa has it worse off. I'm a strong advocate of stopping this behaviour because while that child in Africa has it tough, it doesn't make our stories or issues invalid. Again, I fall to a quoate, this time from the television program M*A*S*H: "How dare you act like your brand of suggering is worse than anyone else's!" How dare we, indeed. If someone needs help, we help them, not hinder them.
All the same, I had allowed myself to fall into and stagnate in that "sickness mentality." I felt like I should be allowed to and maybe even deserved to suffer. At some point, however, through my own reflecting as well as through things like To Write Love On Her Arms (damn, I feel like a broken record, but this organization is so important to me at this point), I came to the knowledge that even with my disorders, I could be happy and deserved to be happy. Being happy doesn't necessarily mean having a clean bill of health or being "cured" (I actually dislike that term), but, now to me at least, it means taking everything in stride and dealing with it bit by bit. Another problem I had (which is linked with my SAD) is that I dwelt too much in the past and lamented/mourned over things that I ultimately could not and cannot fix. I had to come to accept these things and while I appreciate that it is because of these things that I am the way I am, I now try to live in the now and not worry over the could-have-beens and what was (the key word there is "try").
Basically, by deciding I was going to be happy, I became happy. Again, I feel like I'm oversimplifying. It is the process of getting to this decision and believing it that matters. You know where you want to end up, now you have to get yourself there.
I remember in high school, a friend of mind said that she lived without regret. Whether it was true or not is unimportant, but at the time, I didn't understand how that was possible. Stuck in the past as I was, the idea of no regrets was beyond my reach, but now I feel like I understand. Now I feel like I live without regret. Sure, there are things that I wish I could have done differently or that I wish had happened another way, but I don't regret them for what they are. I learn from and build myself on them. They aren't weak links, but things to learn from and treasure for what they are.
Through all this, I also learned that I cannot hinge my happiness on others. I don't mean become a social recluse; not at all. What I mean is that although I love and appreciate those I'm closest to and am happy to have them be a part of my life, I'm not going to depend only on them to make me happy. You all bring me happiness, sure, but I need to be happy with myself, too. I must know that while it would be terrible and heartbreaking to lose you, I can survive without you. I fear that I am being demeaning and devaluing the importance of loved ones, but I'm not intending to be. I'm just not entirely sure how to articulate.
That was part of my "sick mentality" too, though, because for the longest times I felt like I couldn't be happy unless I had someone else there, whether that person was a friend, family member or a sadly non-existant signficant other. I just had to have someone there and was miserable because I felt like there was no one. I could go on for days why I felt (and sometimes still do feel) so alone, but that's not for now, if ever. It's empowering to realize that you can stand on your own, but as I was trying to explain above, it's also fantastic to have those who will help support you just in case and who love you. In a way, I think I gained a better appreciation for my friends and family when I realized this (if only because they stuck by me through my miserable times). I was able to recognize and value them for what they are rather than what I wanted them to be.
If you'll notice, I mention things like that I still do have these thoughts and that I still feel as I did sometimes. My happiness doesn't stem from having found some magical "cure" or because I found some way to "fix" myself and my problems. I'm happy because I know I can live with and survive through them. I am by no means stable; truth be told, I consider myself to be very unstable, always on the brink of falling back to where I was, which scares me. But I am happy in the now because I'm trying not to worry about what may (or may not) happen somewhere down the line.
I'm not trying to present this as the model to follow or the one quick fix, but as I said, it keeps coming back to my story as if I have some secret. I don't. I'm still learning just like anyone else and even still have my struggles. I'm only trying to show that and to also maybe help kickstart others on their own way. Each of us has to find our own happy. Not based on other people's definition of happy, and certainly not based on the media's definition. Maybe those things will have influence, as they inevitably do, but this is your version of happiness for which you're searching. It might come in two seconds from now, or maybe it will take you years to find like it did for me. Just keep going and eventually you should trip over it. :)
<3
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