I knew someone once who was seriously bipolar, among other problems she had, who would be telling me in all earnestness right now that I might want to consider lithium or some equally scary drug.
I’m feeling much better now than I was a few days ago. It almost feels…happy. But is this what happy people feel like, or is it just relief that the tide of feeling utterly alone and worthless has receded?
Despite having just spent $1,142.10 to get my car fixed yesterday, I was in a pretty good mood as I drove home, in rush hour traffic, along a route I hadn’t been down in probably a good five years. The flowers were blooming, my car was fixed, there was good music on the radio, albeit on a number of stations around the dial, the sun was out and it was warm enough to open the window a little.
It didn’t matter that the guy in the SUV cut me off in traffic, or that someone wanted to make an illegal U-turn and that was backing everything up, or that my country seems to determined to make me a second class citizen, or that I could stand to lose a few around the middle. I felt light, and sweet, and like smiling for no reason at all. Everything was OK, and would be OK.
And I started to wonder, is this how self-professed “happy” people feel all the time? And what can I do to make this last?
It’s a wonderful thing when the world is a welcoming, shiny place, when a set-back is something that I can look at and go “well, that didn’t turn out quite like I thought” and move on rather than have it settle on me with the equivalent weight of a cinder block.
I’m going to try to remember that feeling, remember how large and alive I felt, and to hold on to it for the next time I feel myself start to slide into the pit.