Defaulting to Happiness

I have always been a generally happy and optimistic person.  When I was a child, I was nearly annoyingly so according to my younger sister who recently told me, "The only reason I was grumpy so often is because you were so damn happy."

All that changed this year when my world turned upside down.  For the first time in my life, I saw no light at the end of the tunnel.  I listened to my friends who told me "you'll get through this," but I had no trust in their confidence.  I smiled and thought to myself how wrong they all were. 

Every day I woke up and put one foot in front of the other.  I only did exactly what I felt I could handle, and did not push myself.  For months and months.  I bailed on friends at the last minute, ignored birthdays and holidays, and didn't return phone calls.  They all sat beside me, told me that they understood and that they'd wait for me to come back.  They told me that I was normal, and that I wasn't a freak for the things I said and did.

Except for my friends and family, to whom I clung for dear life, everything else I knew was up in the air.

Probably the most honest advice I got during the autumn was "It will be awful until it's not."  I didn't understand the information when it was spoken -- a time when I was grasping for anything to hold on to.  Knowing that things will be awful "until they're not" is nothing really firm that I can do anything about.  And for a Virgo like me who likes a specific time and date on things, it wasn't the easiest thing to hear.

And through it all I learned to ask very specifically for what I needed.  "I know I can get a shuttle, but I really need a ride to the airport."  "I really need to you just check on me every once in a while."  "I need to go out to dinner with someone tonight."  "I need you to listen to me and not think I'm crazy."  "I need you to go with me to the farmers' market."

I learned that standing in the middle of my apartment and saying out loud to the room, "I really need someone to call me right now," didn't work and that I had to actually pick up the phone and ask for friends to hold my hand.  I had to learn to be weak in front of people -- something that I'm not always good at.  I had to be ok with being vulnerable.

And eventually, I stopped my panic.  I stopped worrying when I'd be "getting over this" and decided "not today".  And I made a couple of important decisions.  The first was that, as much as I wanted to flee the city immediately -- say good-bye to the town where nearly five of my seven years here were spent with J -- I would stay put.  I would allow myself to leave as much as I needed to, and that resulted in many many flights to Southern California to see my family -- sometimes for weeks on end.  But I wasn't quite ready to say good-bye to San Francisco.  I feel more settled into a community here than I ever have in my life, and I don't feel like my journey here is done yet.

Secondly I decided that, even if I was in the exact same place in a year: single and still confused about my life, that I would be ok.  And that it wouldn't be the end of the world.  In that decision, I gave myself permission to relax -- relax about my need to constantly move forward, and to just be.  To do whatever it was that I needed to do to heal and regroup.

I decided to take a trip.  I decided to stay in my apartment for the moment.  And I managed to step back and get some perspective.  Magically, things got better.  They were awful and then they weren't. 

Like a good recipe, it was a lot of purposeful ingredients put together combined with a dash of this and a pinch of that which helped turn me around.    And I literally feel like I was reborn.  I'm back to defaulting to happiness, and it's the most amazing feeling.  I have to catch myself from saying to a line up of strangers at the local coffee joint, "I'm happy -- do you understand what a miracle that is?"

I want to dance in the streets until midnight
And to laugh till the dawn of the day
And when they ask why I act so strange I'll reply
I'm just happy, so happy this way.
-- Judith Owen, Happy This Way

Comments

[vanessa]

I'm happy for you...enjoy.

[Catherine]

Welcome "back"

[Sean]

Happy happiness! I've found that happiness is always there for those who will embrace it. Glad you opened your amrs again.

[Tea]

Just reading this makes ME happy too! You've been amazing--are amazing--and I am so pleased that you've come through the foggy days and into the light. Sometimes that makes the happiness even more special--knowing that you've earned it, grown into it.

And hey, what a cute picture!

[naomi]

First of all, I'm glad you're happy again.

Secondly, thank you for your eloquence. I've been dealing with a completely different kind of rough time, and you said some things I needed to hear.

[Stephanie]

It's a truly amazing feeling when you find happiness again, and for whatever combination of things brought it to you -- or you to it -- I'm grateful.

[Kim]

What an inspired and inspiring post. I love hearing about the swing of the pendulum. Purposeful ingredients, indeed!

[Amy Sherman]

What a wonderful post! And welcome back. It's great to hear that you have found your true happiness again.

[jeanne bee]

Happy is good. But to see you in many shades of technicolor is friendship. Whatever it is I'm glad you are who you are!

[cookiecrumb]

I know you are happy. I saw you in a cotton skirt and red toenails.
I feel a little sorry I didn't spend more time buoying you, but you did it yourself, which is true recovery.
Love you, baby.

[Jennifer Jeffrey]

What a lovely post. Hurray for happiness!

[Jennywenny]

Thanks for sharing. Glad you're happy. I have to remind myself often that life has ups and downs and to just try and hang on for the ride.

[shuna fish lydon]

"Secondly I decided that, even if I was in the exact same place in a year: single and still confused about my life, that I would be ok. And that it wouldn't be the end of the world. In that decision, I gave myself permission to relax -- relax about my need to constantly move forward, and to just be. To do whatever it was that I needed to do to heal and regroup."

this is what I empathize with the most. although my grief is from a different sort of loss, I too had to relax into it instead of fighting the current.

I'm glad the water is shallow enough to splash around in again, do handstands and flop back onto your beach towel exhausted with happiness.

welcome home dear friend. maybe we can go for a celebratory ice cream when I get home.

ps. I believe that vulnerability is one of the most powerful forms of bravery.

[Anita]

Thank you for putting this up. I'm still in the dark, mostly, and it helps me to see people blinking as they emerge into the sunshine. And even though our paths don't cross that often, I'm glad you stayed put.

[catriona]

hoop-la. i just stumbled across your wonderful blog and had such a strange moment of cyber-empathy that it seemed impossible not too comment and say hurrah for you. swamped under by the direness of it all, me, i left town. i'm still gone. it's great.

[jen maiser]

Wow - you all know how to overwhelm a girl. Thank you, everyone, for your amazing comments. It's been a journey, but it's fun to be able to share some of the high points.

[shauna]

jen, you amaze me. i can feel you being back with every word here. What a beautiful, vulnerable piece.

Amen.

[aileen]

Thank you for such a beautiful post....and for sharing with us what you learned from putting the one foot in front of the other until you emerged from the darker times. I look forward to reading about all the adventures and dishes that your released sense of frolic leads to!

[McAuliflower]

bravo!

Taking your life in hand like that is amazing. I have so much admiration for my friends who make it work for themselves.

[sam]

Love you Jen...

[Anna Peschong]

Thanks for writing this Jen. You know first-hand it takes strength to grieve, thank you for being brave, for walking through the loss and coming out the other side with that beautiful smile on your face.

[molly]

i'm proud of you jen and happy for you too. looking forward to see where it takes you :)

[Amanda L]

I just read your post to Heather. She said "WOW, she's just like Carry Bradshaw". Thanks (from her) she's in a bad spot and she needs your perspective.

[Jen]

Welcome back, my friend. I knew the Jen I met in 7th grade, where giggles far outnumbered frowns, was still lurking beneath the surface of aching hurt. I'm proud of you for getting past this, as I knew you would, stronger, more confident and just as fun as ever. Looking forward to many more gut busting fits of laughter and years of friendship.

[Jasmine]

Glad to hear you are ack in the upswing!!