The Pursuit of Happiness or Can I Be Happy?

Can I Be Happy?

What a strange question, non? But it’s what I’ve been wondering lately. I signed up for an online free class that started just this week, and it’s all about, yes, you guessed it; happiness. And my initial reaction to classmates posting videos about what makes them happy, well, made me embarrassed. Yes, sadly, this was my reaction, but fortunately I noticed my reaction and was like, “Hey Theresa, what’s up with that?” And I’ve been wondering, hell, what is up with that? And what is up with that is that I really don’t think I’ve allowed myself, or even known, how to be happy. At least not for a while now. I do know that in the past I’ve been happy, but it seems like a faint memory. 

The backstory on this was that for over ten years of my youngest daughter’s life; she was clinically, horribly, undeniably depressed. Sounds bad, and it was, and in those years she made more than a few attempts at her life, and so I know my way around the block in crazy. Most parent just hope to feed and clothes their child, and you know, do the normal things to keep them alive, hope they don’t mess them up too horribly. I had to be ready to respond to crisis day in and day out. I’ve had to wonder if any change in mood might signal something scary. I’ve had to take her to specialist after specialist, therapist after therapist, only to be told, “hmm, not sure what is going on.” I’ve written only briefly about it, because it was her private hell, but I was there, too. 

And I think that to have allowed myself any kind of happiness during that time would have been crazy, and weirdly, unseemly. I remember missing feeling happy, and I too, like Megan, felt cheated. Cheated out of being able to enjoy my child’s childhood. Cheated of being able to focus on my other daughters as much as I wanted to. Cheated of being able to just be normal. Fortunately, finally, that girl got diagnosed with Hashimoto’s hypothyroid disease and with the right medication, her depression lifted, and now, years later, the subtle depression and hopelessness that followed, in her coming to terms with having lost 10 fricken years of her life has also lifted. She is now, mostly happy, mostly recovered, however that looks for someone who was clinically depressed from ages 7 to 17. 

I want to be happy now too. I want to just know that those dark years are gone, and in the last 8 of them, I’ve finished two master’s degrees, and started a private practice as a holistic psychotherapist. Working so hard might have contributed slightly to my lack of luster in the happiness department, but I’m ready to learn, ready to go, ready to let go of being on a mission to find help for my daughter. She is really quite good at helping herself now. And I am ready to feel happy. Like Megan, jumping on the bed at age 4 or 5 or so, taping herself, saying “Happy, happy, happy, I’m so happy.” I remember that little voice poignantly, I thought about it during my search for help for her, wondering what in the hell happened? She was so happy as a baby and toddler, she should have been able to have kept all that happiness, instead of having to lose and find it. She had a safe home and a mom and two sisters who loved her like crazy. Happiness is our birthright, it should be that simple. So, I’ll start by telling you what makes me happy, really happy--thyroid medication.