Is Happiness Overrated?

If I’m being completely honest, I’m not “happy.” I don’t even know if I’ve ever been happy. I’ve had good moments, bursting at the seams with gratitude, but true happiness? That feels like something I’ve read about, not something I’ve lived.

On memory, the happiest, most connected I've felt what a short timeframe between overconsumption and full blow substance abuse. It was the first time I felt free for a number of reasons and I knew deep down that riding that feeling was going to cost me dearly, but if felt soo good.

Alone in the void

That said, I’m more at peace today than I've ever been. I’ve fought hard for that peace. But peace and happiness are not the same thing.

I’ve felt alone and out of place for as long as I can remember. It’s not always that crushing, isolated kind of loneliness. Sometimes it’s just a hum in the background, always there no matter where I am. Even in a room full of people. Even with family. Even with people who love me. It’s like I carry it in my bones.

And if I’m being real, I don’t know if that will ever change.

Maybe it’s because of the way I came into this world, alone. And the fact that one day I’ll leave the same way. I've struggled with depression since I was a child. I’ve never had a long-term, sound relationship. Those truths just… sits with me. It fills every room in my house.

So how do I cope with the heaviness?

Most of the time, I can quiet it down.

I reframe it. I tell myself maybe I came here to truly learn who I am, to figure out how to love myself unconditionally. That gives me something to work toward, even if it’s just a story I tell myself.

Other times, I look at it as a strength test. Like maybe my soul signed up to overcome the genetic lottery of mental health, and to do it alone. Sometimes that makes me feel strong. Occasionally, even proud.

And sometimes I remind myself I’m not technically alone. I have my daughter who is the light in my life. I have AMAZING parents. I have a sister who’s kept me tethered to this earth when I wanted to drift away. That’s love. That’s real.

And yet… the loneliness still finds me. The truth is there no matter what story I tell myself or what perspective helps me sleep. And the truth is ugly, raw, and painful.

Maybe it’s a curse. Maybe it’s a blessing. Maybe it’s just part of my path.

Or maybe peace is a more potent teacher than happiness.