Are you ever happy? Oh, if I had a penny for every mental health care provider who has asked me that question…..

I laid in bed last night begging myself to fall asleep, yet again, while noticing my brain having that conversation with my disease. “Do you enjoy life? Are you ever happy, Jami”? I survived a panic attack at 4:30 in the morning. I was exhausted or hungover from the necessary Xanax. I should have been tired. But my brain was going. It’s like a shark… If it stops it’ll die (I heard that about sharks – maybe it’s not true).

I think last night I determined that I don’t enjoy it. I’m not happy.

Today I made the 2 1/2 hour journey to my therapist. (Yes, he is THAT good.) In route, I changed my mind and decided that if he asked me the same question. I would say that I have moments…. small moments. Sometimes I would define moments as minutes and others, possibly, a few hours. If I am lucky I will have a day or maybe two.

This doesn’t mean I’m miserable all time. I don’t hide in my house. I’m not a bummer to be around. I try. Oh, I try everyday. I just don’t have much success in the enjoyment/happiness category.

I noticed somewhere on Facebook that today is Annual Semi-colon Day. People who self-injury or are suicidal or have been hopeless, etc are encouraged to draw a semi-colon on themselves to show that they could have chosen to end their sentence but didn’t.

I’m not happy much. I have self-injured and probably will again. But, I have no desire to stop my “sentence” on my own regardless how unhappy I am. I’ll just keep moving on. I’m envious of the people around that I see and perceive to be happy “all of the time”. I think I’ve just resolved myself with the understanding that I’m not there.


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