According to Merriam-Webster, happiness is defined as a state of well-being and contentment: joy, or a pleasurable or satisfying experience. So what does it actually mean to be happy? I’ve had an idealized view of happiness since Ariella died, that since my child is no longer with me I can never again experience true happiness that is not in some way tainted by sadness, anger, or grief. I’ve come to realize though, that thinking of happiness as an all or nothing state is a defeatist and self-sabotaging perspective. It gives me an excuse to not put myself out there, to just accept that things are as they are and that I’m doomed to live an empty, unfulfilling life. Saves me from disappointment and from having to forge my own path towards happiness.
For those who have been following my story from the beginning, you have seen a fundamental shift in my demeanor. You know that about a year and a half ago was when I started finding life pleasurable again, that I had moments of happiness and contentment (going right back to the definition), even if they were fleeting, and most importantly that I realized life was worth living. And honestly, this is frightening. My happiness was ripped from me in the most cruel way imaginable and well, if you’re not happy you have nothing to lose. You can’t plummet back down into that pit of despair because you are already there.
If I put happiness up on this pedestal, this ideal that I cannot live up to, then I don’t need to try and thus won’t get hurt again. But the truth is happiness isn’t being happy 100% of the time, or probably even most of the time. It’s much more nuanced than that. And not all happy times are equivalent. One can be elated, ecstatic, or just content in the moment. Does true happiness without any other conflicting emotions even exist? Maybe in the most fleeting of instances but not as a rule. Was I happy with my life before Ariella was diagnosed? Yes, I was. But was it 100% happiness? Of course not. Is that even a thing? Yeah there were many times that were pure joy, when happiness was all I felt, but more often than not there were many other things that went along with it. Stress, fatigue, discontent with work, etc. So why am I so set on the fact that I will never be 100% happy again? I wasn’t before so why now? I think that it’s more that I will never feel whole again. And I can try and try to find those pieces that will fill in the spaces but nothing will be a perfect fit, there will always be something missing. But does that mean I can’t also be generally happy?
There is still guilt in feeling happy. I know it’s not logical, and that Ariella would want me to live my best life and find joy where I can. And I have those moments. Many truly happy moments that are just that, not tainted, not marred by grief, just contentment in the moment. And generally I’m at peace. And I’m having a difficult time coming to terms with that. It feels weird and unnatural. And maybe will just take some getting used to.
I think this is so spot on! A lot of people in my grief group (those that are further along) have talked about the same feelings of happiness being strange but still feeling it. Although they pretty much all say it is still almost always tempered with some sadness and guilt for feeling that way. One of the ladies who lost a young boy has talked about that maybe nothing will be a “10” again but there are now 9’s and 8’s.
So much truth here . Looking at happiness from all these angles is really healthy. Something I need to try to understand and achieve as well