I have struggled throughout my life with the concept of happiness. What is it; where does it come from; how do I become happy? I’ve tried lots of things. Fortunately for me, my search never took me down too dark of a path. I do however feel I have learned a lot in my relatively short life so far. Despite my daily fights with depression and anxiety I believe I have landed in a happy place.
When I was very young I thought committing myself to the Christian god would do the trick. Everyone I trusted said it would. Growing up in a “charismatic” church there were certain signs to know if you were doing it right. I couldn't do those things. I couldn't speak in tongues, a language god would give you to worship him properly and only it you believe strongly enough. I faked all the “falling out” but I didn't have to fake the guilt. Why didn't god love me? Why was I not good enough? What could I do better? I knew some of the people that could do these things were far more sinful than I was. It wasn't until years later that I learned some people’s brains are more inclined to be accepting of the influence of groups. I was just not one of those people and that was ok. I filled that part of myself by soaking up what I could of explanations of the world around me. I found that best way to do that was through understanding science. I no longer felt there was something ‘missing in me’ or ‘wrong with me’ and I was happy.
Unfortunately, we are not single layered beings and there is more to happiness than what you believe about a god. My upbringing in the church wove itself into almost every fiber of my being including my methods of dealing with my depression. I was taught that praying was the only good solution and that medications were for the weak or faithless. It was never explicitly stated but it was obvious in the way some of my family reacted when I told them I was seeing a therapist and taking antidepressants. Here I was again feeling like I had failed in my faith. I needed more than just Jesus to feel like not killing myself and I had let my family down because of it. Once the medication was well in my system and I was able to feel and be clearheaded I decided it wasn't me that had failed god it was god that had failed me. It was one more step in my deconversion and one more step toward happiness for me.
Romantic happiness is a thing that again the church got in the way of for me. I met my first husband at church and we ended up going to our local Bible college together. He was always the questioning type and had found his atheism long before I found mine. The college and our history in our individual churches led directly to the downfall of our relationship. We weren't allowed to explore our romance and sexual expression before we married. That's not to say we were completely abstinent, but it wasn't what it should have been. Once we were married we just weren't happy in many aspects of our relationship. We had two kids; that didn't help. We opened up our relationship; that worked for a little while but caused a lot of additional stress which we had no community support to help us endure. We came to the conclusion, through much heartache and some physical pain, that we were just looking for someone to replace each other. I am in no way suggesting that this is what all open marriages are about, but it is what ours turned out to be. We ended romantic things between us letting go of what was supposed to be, what was expected of us, and just let ourselves be what we wanted to be. That has turned out to be pretty good friends. Myself, my second husband, and my former husband all live in the same house raising our three children together. We made happiness for ourselves outside of the norm.
When I met my second husband I was in a strained place. My relationship with my first husband was coming to an end and things were getting tense. Some things happened that I won’t go into detail about, but they were ugly and put the last nail in the coffin of that relationship. My second husband and I were both in open relationships and seeing several people each. There was this instant connection between us so to speak. However, we both had plans about what we wanted for our future and they were different so I just decided to enjoy the time I had with him and be thankful for it. However, over the first year of our relationship we noticed we were canceling our plans with other people to spend more time with each other. We were on the verge of a monogamous relationship and neither of us were doing anything to stop it. Then something pretty cool happened. I became pregnant with his child. I was on the pill consistently and wasn't taking anything that would have interfered with it doing its job. I am just one of those small percentage of woman that has a failure. There was panic at first; I knew he didn't want to have any children. I was terrified this would end our relationship. I took a few hours to calm myself and called him. I'm not going to lie, it took some time, but eventually we decided to continue the pregnancy. This is right about when we decided to end the rest of our relationships and be monogamous. Here again, I went against the norm and did things my way and I have been happy because of it.
Happiness and comfort in your own skin. This is something that is especially hard for women. I am a fat person, there is just no way around it… well there is a long way around it. I have been told my whole life that I am less because I am more. This has always been a struggle for me. I got my period when I was between nine and ten and I only made it to five feet one inch tall. I think these things doomed me to be fluffy. Once I became a mom of three (and the three c-sections I had to bring them into the world) I'm pretty sure there is no way I will ever look like a “normal” person again. This is hard for me to swallow. I let myself go because of it. I couldn't deal with the fact that I will forever be misshapen. I go between knowing I want to live forever and living a healthy lifestyle and not caring at all. I have decided to live and I am working on being happy about the body I will be living in. I have to decide every day to get up and shake off what society says about fat people and do what I need to do to be happy and healthy. It is a choice I make and it is a hard one for me.
Physical pain puts a damper on everything. For almost as long as I can remember I have had this nerve pinch in my lower back. It sometimes makes sleeping, moving, and enjoying anything almost impossible. The pain sometime crumples me up like a ball while trying to walk. It can send shooting pains into my legs that make sleeping a joke. I sometimes pretend that if I lose some weight it will make it all stop, but I know I'm lying to myself. This pain started when I weighed less than a hundred and twenty pounds. I assume that one day in my old age I'll have to go under the knife to deal with it. Still, when I am in the most pain I hold my husband's hand and cry and make the choice that I will be thankful to be alive and be happy. This choice is sometimes the hardest one.
So many things are forced on us, happen to us, or are chosen by us that either lead to our happiness or unhappiness. I think the most important thing I've learned about happiness is that it isn't something that you can force and it isn't something there is a formula for. It also isn't something someone can do for you. No one or no god can make you happy. Your happiness only comes from yourself. You will sometimes have to fight against all odds and your own brain and body to be happy. You also have to accept that even if you don't feel it all the time your life can still be happy. You also have to be willing to go outside of what you were taught to find the things that you actually need to be happy. Happiness is sometimes an uphill battle against, society, our families' traditions, and our own bodies, but it can be had, and I choose to have it.
