I'm a happy person.
It's a simple truth. I've never actually poled my circle of acquaintances and friends, but I'm confident that if I did, the majority of them would agree. Lydia is a happy person.
I used to be proud of this fact. Or at least I took it for granted. I knew there were not-happy people in the world, I knew depression is a serious problem for many. But I was secure in my identity as someone who didn't deal with that, and I have to admit there was a measure of "What is their problem?" in my attitude that I'm ashamed of now.
Time has gone by, I've grown up. And while I'm still a happy person, it's not the same simple truth. It's not simple at all. I've realized how much work I've had to slowly begin putting into my optimism. It's not as easy as it once was. But it's still worth it to me for a lot of different reasons.
Time has gone by, I've grown up. And while I'm still a happy person, it's not the same simple truth. It's not simple at all. I've realized how much work I've had to slowly begin putting into my optimism. It's not as easy as it once was. But it's still worth it to me for a lot of different reasons.
I wish I had more even keeled emotions. I wish I could not take everything so much to heart. I wish I wasn't so determined to find the silver lining. Sometimes I wish I could be grumpy all day long. That I could actually go a couple of hours without laughing. That I wasn't wired to act happy when I'm really not. Because... it gets tiring, and it's hard.
Lately in my reading and observing I've noticed a surprising prejudiced against happy people that I took (probably too much) to heart. If you go by popular culture's definition, happy people are naive, annoying, get in the way and are just plain useless. If anything, they're cute, comic relief. A general misconception about happy people is that we have it easy, we have no worries, otherwise we'd wouldn't be happy. Believe me, that's not the case. Now I'm just fine with being thought cute, and I believe this world wouldn't suffer if comic relief was valued a tad more. But do people find my general optimism annoying and unrealistic?
Lately in my reading and observing I've noticed a surprising prejudiced against happy people that I took (probably too much) to heart. If you go by popular culture's definition, happy people are naive, annoying, get in the way and are just plain useless. If anything, they're cute, comic relief. A general misconception about happy people is that we have it easy, we have no worries, otherwise we'd wouldn't be happy. Believe me, that's not the case. Now I'm just fine with being thought cute, and I believe this world wouldn't suffer if comic relief was valued a tad more. But do people find my general optimism annoying and unrealistic?
I certainly hope not, but I honestly don't know.
I heard someone say once that we live in the age where we are drowning in information and starving for knowledge. Kids grow up so fast, they learn of the horrors of the world and lose their wide-eyed innocence and replace it with world-weariness much too soon. I'm not saying I can scientifically prove this but it seems to me the more horrors a person knows the less happy they're likely to be.
I'll freely admit I've led a sheltered life, that I'm blind to many things normal people deal with daily, but I'm twenty years old, I'm not a child anymore. I've known sadness. Some of the sadness was obvious, the death of a family member, a public humiliation. Some of it was deeply personal, life ruinous difficulties that I never talk about, and kept a secret. Secrets I'm planning on keeping it that secrets.
I can't speak for all optimists but I know for me happiness really is a choice. I get up in the morning. I look in the mirror before starting my day and I put a smile on. Because that's who I am, and always have been, if I feel like it that day or not. I choose to bury my sadness and not dwell on it. And mostly it works out okay. Optimists aren't happy because we don't have anything to be sad about. We're happy because that's how we deal with sadness. And when we do get upset, it's something serious, so pay attention.
We all have bad days, I am no exception. When things build to a head for me I'm suddenly reminded of all the things I've been being happy about, that I didn't want to be. The things I bury in order to present the smile everyone is accustom to. Things I don't want to be happy about, but do anyway for no better reason than the fact that I'm a happy person. I don't get depressed, I'm not allowed to.
But when I do...
Boy it's drastic.
Because it scares me to confront it all, because I'm not good at being depressed, I honestly can't handle it. I usually go on a cleaning spree (and I HATE cleaning) as an effort to distract myself. (In case you were wondering, my room is currently spotless.)
My point with sharing this is to start a defense for happy people against prejudiced. If you have a happy person in your life that you find a bit too happy, if you ever rolled your eyes and thought "Have they got a shock coming..." try and consider that maybe the shock has already come, there's a good chance they don't always feel as cheery as the smile on their face suggests.
I heard someone say once that we live in the age where we are drowning in information and starving for knowledge. Kids grow up so fast, they learn of the horrors of the world and lose their wide-eyed innocence and replace it with world-weariness much too soon. I'm not saying I can scientifically prove this but it seems to me the more horrors a person knows the less happy they're likely to be.
I'll freely admit I've led a sheltered life, that I'm blind to many things normal people deal with daily, but I'm twenty years old, I'm not a child anymore. I've known sadness. Some of the sadness was obvious, the death of a family member, a public humiliation. Some of it was deeply personal, life ruinous difficulties that I never talk about, and kept a secret. Secrets I'm planning on keeping it that secrets.
I can't speak for all optimists but I know for me happiness really is a choice. I get up in the morning. I look in the mirror before starting my day and I put a smile on. Because that's who I am, and always have been, if I feel like it that day or not. I choose to bury my sadness and not dwell on it. And mostly it works out okay. Optimists aren't happy because we don't have anything to be sad about. We're happy because that's how we deal with sadness. And when we do get upset, it's something serious, so pay attention.
We all have bad days, I am no exception. When things build to a head for me I'm suddenly reminded of all the things I've been being happy about, that I didn't want to be. The things I bury in order to present the smile everyone is accustom to. Things I don't want to be happy about, but do anyway for no better reason than the fact that I'm a happy person. I don't get depressed, I'm not allowed to.
But when I do...
Boy it's drastic.
Because it scares me to confront it all, because I'm not good at being depressed, I honestly can't handle it. I usually go on a cleaning spree (and I HATE cleaning) as an effort to distract myself. (In case you were wondering, my room is currently spotless.)
My point with sharing this is to start a defense for happy people against prejudiced. If you have a happy person in your life that you find a bit too happy, if you ever rolled your eyes and thought "Have they got a shock coming..." try and consider that maybe the shock has already come, there's a good chance they don't always feel as cheery as the smile on their face suggests.
So basically: Hug a happy person today. They need it just as much as anyone.
(I should point out that I have nothing agasinst pessimistic people, I just don't like when they hate on optimists)
