Saturday, December 17, 2011

Happy. What it is and what causes it?

You know, it seems like a very simple question, what makes you happy. But there are so many layers to it. So many different answers. Some answers are simple. The giggle of a child, puppy breath. The warmth of the sun on your face early on a summer morning. These are happy things. All of them. But they barely scrape the surface.

Some say that a truly happy person is a lazy person, to be happy is to be content, to be content to not want, to not want is to give up. I don't believe that. At some point enough is all you need. Then it's time to stop and enjoy what it is you have.
But that doesn't answer the question of what makes me happy.

Do I even know how to be happy? Remember, 10 ways to make yourself happy on purpose. I've learned to navigate, I've learned to drive a boat, I've learned to fix just about anything. I've learned to use computers, to network, to take bad pictures. I've learned to drive. I've learned to swim, walk, ride a bike and a motorcycle. I've learned to read and I've learned to write (sort of). I've learned how to build things and how to destroy things. I've learned to cook things and to eat them. I can learn to be happy.

I've seen the green flash sunset for Key West. I've seen the Northern Lights from Alaska. I've been east and I've been west. I've wandered. I've been lost, I've been found. I've been crazy. I've been almost dead and I've been should have been dead. I've been up mountains and down valleys. I've used a river for a bathtub, in the winter. I've lived in nice homes and I've lived in no home. So I can learn to be happy.

And then I hear the voice. The voice that is ever present in my world. The voice of the evil, vile monster that is my depression. Laughing at me. I must find ways to quiet that voice. To silence it would be divine. To never again hear that which so often takes control of my life. The evil monster in the basement that seems consistently able to control me like a puppet master controlling a puppet. I so desperately need and want to cut those strings. That would make me happy. To finally quiet that voice.

Sadly I know that will never happen. I am what I am and what I am is a clinically depressed person. I can't change that. I can control it, to a point. I can keep taking the medications that work to jump the shorted wires of my mind. I can continue to seek therapy and teach myself how to work with and around my depression. But it will always be a part of me. What I must learn is how to keep it from controlling me. That will make me happy.

My daughter makes me happy. Knowing that I'm doing a pretty decent job of raising one hell of a kid. That makes me feel proud and happy. If I manage nothing else in my life I hope to keep her from reliving my mistakes. I know I can't protect her from everything life is going to throw at her, but I certainly hope I  can give her the tools never afforded me. The skills to handle life with grace. My life has been like trying to force a square peg into a round hole. I don't want that for her. If I can manage that, I will be happy.

Learning makes me happy. Learning anything. I try to learn something new every single day. It may be something simple or it may be something complex. As long as it's something new I'm happy. Or as happy as I know how to be.

I think that's a big part of my problem. I don't know how to be happy. I don't think I've ever know how. Not the way most people are anyway. I have fleeting moments, while the monster in the basement in napping. Temporary moments of happy. When I cuddle with my daughter, when I play with the dogs. But then they get squashed by inherent need to find the negative in everything. I'm pragmatic to the extreme. When most people think of the possibilities they think of the positive, of the good. When I think of the possibilities it turns to what could go wrong, what could happen, what could fail. It's natural for me. It's what I've always done. I know no other way. To learn that other way will make me happy.

To wake in the morning and think to myself, self, it's a beautiful morning and not something along the lines of "crap it's early". I want to wake thinking of the positive possibilities. Of what can be achieved. Of what can be created. Instead of what is going to be destroyed. This will make me happy.

I'm learning. One day at a time, one step at a time. The monster spends more and more time in the basement. Of that I am glad. I am slowly going from a world of dark grays and shadows of dark to one with occasional patches of color. I hope some day to live in a Technicolor world. Or at least not completely monochromatic. This will make me happy.

There are some things that make me happy. However brief and passing that moment may be, it's a moment to be enjoyed. The smell of flowers on a summer breeze. The laughter of children in the park. The love of my dogs, unconditional and complete. Music, music makes me happy. I'm slowly starting to see the beauty in the world instead of the misery and the ugliness. It's like climbing an endless flight of stairs to a tower. In the tower is not a princess but instead some form of happiness. I continue to climb. One step at a time. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other. I hope someday to reach the top.

No comments: