Number 110

What's It Like To Live Happy?

I have spent a lot of time and effort documenting my challenges with depression and anxiety. Perhaps too much time. If you're tired of hearing about it, gentle reader, imagine what it feels like to live it. In any event, you might have noticed, the last few months of my life were not easy for me: Covid, Trump, the murder of George Floyd (and its aftermath), Trump, JK Rowling being transphobic, a delay in gender confirmation surgery that remained unscheduled, and Trump were all conspiring against me. I had myself painted into a corner, and I didn't know which way to turn. 

(I am well aware that listing trump three times probably suggests that I give him way too much space in my head. Truly, I try to ignore him as much as possible, but for God's sake, he's the fucking president and he is just so vile.)

I didn't want to unload on my partner because she's going through some heavy work stuff herself, and other than her, I didn't know where to turn. I wasn't having active thoughts of suicide or self-harm, but I was definitely wondering if there was any purpose to living a live devoid of joy. I was stuck.

Was my malaise a mental health issue, a physical one, a neurochemical one, or some combination of all three? I wasn't sure. For that reason, I decided to throw a bit of a 'Hail Mary' pass and sent a message to the three doctors most responsible for my everyday health: My therapist, my G.P., and my endocrinologist. The message detailed my current situation and my wonderings about how to fix things.

Bless their hearts! Each one of them responded within a couple of days, and I quickly had appointments scheduled with all three that took place within a week's time. I poured my heart out to my therapist, and after listening to me monologue for most of the session, she gently suggested a few different ways I might look at things. It was therapeutic voodoo how quickly she helped reorder my thinking.

My two physicians each engaged me in conversation about my medications, and whether there should be changes. The really wonderful part of those conversations was the way each of them listened to what I thought the best way forward was, and that I got to be a part of the decision making process. 

Also, in the meantime, I heard from my plastic surgeon's office. While they can't schedule surgeries more than six weeks ahead of time right now, I was given a rough idea of when it might be. Additionally, I started working with a new athletic trainer that I really like. And, as much as I hate to say it, regular exercise has proven to be a helpful thing.

The upshot? For the first time in... well, forever, maybe, I am going through life in a positive mood. The strange thing about this, I realized during a moment of reflection, is I don't know what it likes to have "happy" as my baseline disposition.

"How are you today, Nora?"

"Well... Now that I think about it, I'm fucking great! I've never felt better in my life, and I'm finally treating myself with the same kindness and compassion that I try to extend to others. I'm feeling positive and energized about the future, and tackling the problems and issues that we face, and... and... I've never felt this way before. I'll take it, but - I won't lie - it feels kinda weird. 

Peace, my friends.