i’m not like them/but i can pretend
Inspired by If Sadness Was a Person by Huckleberry Friend
In my comment on this blog I mentioned the song Dumb by Nirvana.
I know music is open to interpretation, but in my mind, this song is about a person who can’t be sincerely happy without help, meaning some sort of mind-altering substance. I don’t know what kind of substance to which Kurt Cobain was referring (or maybe I do, unfortunately), but in my case, it’s antidepressants, or what I refer to in my mind as my bottle of happy. Without my happiness in bottle, I can’t work, or think clearly, or be creative, or hold a conversation with my husband, or friends, or play with my dog, or really do anything besides sleep. Even with my prescription of happy, I can still have bad days. Like today. The clouds in my head are finally starting to clear and at least I can write again, but it’s already 3 pm and most of the day is gone.
There are some days when I wake up happy, like a miracle. Practically leaping from bed, going outside to get pictures of the sunrise, cleaning the house, taking the dog on a long walk. planning outings with my husband or friends. I wish I could hold onto that feeling everyday, even if it’s just dumb happy and not authentic happy, because it’s something. Once I know what that feels like and then the same feeling eludes me for days it makes me wonder, what did I do differently that day? Did I eat something especially healthy the day before? Did I have a great endorphin-releasing workout? Did I accidentally take the wrong dose of something? But I have to accept maybe it was just a fluke and wait for it to happen again. I make sure not to waste those days.
Most days my personality is pretty even-keeled. I look forward to small moments that will make me laugh or smile or feel peace, quiet reflection in prayer and meditation every morning, a wise-cracking co-worker, my brother’s daily phone call where were reminisce about childhood shenanigans or the daily craziness that is his life, (he’s just one of those people who was born happy and I love him for it, my opposite) my husband’s funny stories on the ride home, the silly, goofy movies I play on a continuous loop in my bedroom and living room at home, private jokes with girlfriends shared over text or in person. I try and make the effort to see them as often as I can. Not to mention spending time with children. My friends’ kids never fail to get a giggle out of me. Plus, some of the things they say are so poignant and sweet and they don’t even realize it at the time. And they aren’t shy about telling me how much the love me, nor I them.
I may not leap out of bed everyday, but I do look for little pockets of happy in small moments. I am not sure sometimes if those moments are dumb happy or true happy but sometimes being happy is all that matters, even if you need a little help from a bottle.