How do you deal
with happiness?
Last year something strange started happening. It began when I noticed how often I would go to bed, fall asleep and usually wake up minutes before the alarm was set to go off. Then I noticed how the two stress warts that had been on my right hand for the past two years had vanished without a trace. But the big kicker came when I realized that I now felt invested in my appearance and wanted to actually dress and groom myself in a somewhat-stylish manner appropriate for a man in his early middle years.
There was only one explanation for it and as bizarre as it was, I had to accept it. I was happy. Undeniably and incontrovertibly happy in a way I hadn’t been for quite some time.
Now, I’ve never been the type of person to wallow in their own misery, but it was never hard for me to tell when it had reached up high enough to soak my ankles. Those three markers above were usually the big signs. If I seemed tired, it was because I spent most nights thinking about everything that was upsetting me, instead of getting any rest. Those warts on my hand had come and gone over the years–always appearing whenever I seemed to be going through an unmistakeable rough patch. And the biggest sign that I was ensconced in a period of extended melancholy was how long I went without bothering to get my haircut. A few years back I went 16 months without one and in retrospect it was definitely a pretty gloomy time.
Now I have a recurring appointment with a stylist. I make the effort to groom my facial hair, instead of just letting it go all Grizzly Adams. I’ve spent more money on clothes in the past year than I have in the previous combined.
I’m happy and though I have experienced similar such moments before, this is easily the happiest I’ve ever been. And it’s weird. It’s not how I’m used to operating. I’ve never been someone who’s had to deal with serious depression, but I’ve also never experienced a whole lot of serious contentment.
It’s not something you hear people talking about a lot–especially on the Internet. The basic assumption seems to be that most everyone is quietly miserable in their own little/big ways and that those who aren’t are either deluded or dumb. A lot of people get angry at those who discuss their recurring happiness and regard it as a kind of bragging.
Maybe it is, but I’m okay with it.
The only potential negative I see in all of this is the fear that it might all go away–and I suppose it could–but so far that fear hasn’t materialized. For now I’m just stumbling blindly in a world where I find it very easy to smile and I deal with it by trying to reinvest my elation amongst the people who help make it possible–the friends, family and co-workers whose combined efforts have risen me into the state of serenity in which I now dwell.
Have you ever been happy? Are you happy right now? Is this something you’re actually aware of or do you tend not to think about it? And how much do you want to punch me right now? If it’s a lot, why do you think that is (beyond the obvious)?