Earlier when I was walking to the post-box in my flip flops (not only my flip flops, mind) it struck me that I am actually quite happy. This is quite a huge thing coming from me, ever the depressed pessimist.
Life’s thrown some punches at me and I’ve been good at surviving, but lately I’ve felt a bit of a shift. For a few years now I’ve not merely been surviving, but living and lately I’ve been enjoying life with more consistency than ever before.
I just want to mention that although I’ve suffered from depression, I would have never described myself as an unhappy person. The difference I am talking about now though, is something between having happy moments or spells, and a more consistent contentment.
The reasons for this are ample, I think, there isn’t one single thing (I am averse to the whole ‘one single thing’ mindset as a whole, it puts too much pressure and expectation on something that can never deliver). Overall though, I think it can be summed up as ‘life is finally going right for me’.
Sure there are still things I want and would like to achieve, and I don’t want to become complacent, but I feel less like something is missing. That’s quite huge, because my life has been governed by loss a lot (both in the bigger sense from losing my mother, but also in smaller ways, in which I recreate or re-experience loss in almost every situation).
It may sound trite but having a husband who loves me, living in our own place (rented, but not shared with flatmates), having a cat, having a nice bottle of wine every now and again, fiddling with crochet/knitting/art/cooking… it all just fills me with more calm than I’ve ever felt in my life.
It makes me feel like, yes I can have nice things (or rather, a nice life), and no they’re not going to be taken away from me at a moment’s notice for no good reason.