Happiness is not always an Option

Unsplah by @maxberg

For most of my life, I wanted to be happy. I did things that I thought would eventuate in pure bliss. I read books that would help me reach the destination of happily ever after. What is sad is that my pursuit of happiness was unconscious strife. I thought I was looking for the meaning of life. The meaning of my life.

I doubt I could help anyone else with this challenge because I thought everyone had their answers already. But I struggled to understand the purpose of my existence. I now realise that finding meaning would make me happy; it was my golden answer to all the painful questions in life. 

Often, I would find a meaningful pursuit, but after its novelty wore out, so did the sparkle of joy. After a period of momentary happiness, difficulty and even suffering awaited me. I thought I was doing something wrong. I tackled each challenge that life would throw at me with the hope to rise from all suffering and into an eternal blissful state of having meaning in my life. 

I heard Jordan B Peterson say recently that happiness is not always an option. In fact, it’s rather rare. Who would have thought that chronic pain would snap me out of my illusions? The illusions that perhaps what I was trying to achieve is to patch old emotional wounds with something that truly mattered to me. But maybe it’s okay to be unhappy sometimes. 

The last 100 days were brutal. Yes, 100 days, to be exact. I was put down by debilitating chronic headaches. Should I call it one headache if it never subsided? The cause was a cocktail of stress, medication overdue (codeine, to be precise), living in an unhealthy environment and a few other things that I won’t overwhelm you with at this stage. All you need to know is that it sucked. 

It caused a lot of anxiety to top it all off. Worst of all, I couldn’t do the things that I found the most meaningful in life: write, read, create—my big three. The meaning of my life was taken away from me just like that in the snap of God’s finger (or the Universe, don’t get picky with words on me here) and all I could do was rest. Rest. R - E - S - T. My worst nightmare. As in not doing something was my worst nightmare. 

The first few months, I sulked, and I soaked in my anxiety. I fought it, and I tried to create, write, and record through the pain. I thought I was dying if I wasn’t already dead. It was like being put into God’s waiting room. Here is that word God, again, but I’m sure you all can cope. Last month I realised I had to learn how to be. 

I had to learn how to stare at the ceiling and have that be enough. I had to learn how to listen to the ocean because listening to music would hurt too much. I had to get used to the fact that I couldn’t walk or exercise for too long. Taking naps was no longer a disgraceful thing that lazy people do; it was a remedy for people who were healing. 

Chronic pain can be a harsh teacher, but if you listen, it can teach you a lot. I’m still learning as I’m still recovering, but I’m more at peace with it now. I’m more at peace with life than I was three months ago. “It is what it is” is not just a string of words but an acceptance mantra for me. It’s okay not to be happy. In fact, we are not meant to always be in joy. It’s okay to accept pain. I think it’s healthy to have room for both. Happiness is not always an option. Finding meaning does not make us happier, but it can make us whole. 

~ Peace ~