The Different Way I Define ‘Happiness’ in My Life With Depression

I’ve lived with depression for a long time. There have been times I’ve felt nothing and other times I’ve felt everything all at once. I can’t always trust how I feel.

Depression has this uncanny ability to separate me from joyful moments: moments I know are joyful because everyone around me is laughing and smiling. They seem to float because they’re free from the heaviness of depression. I have been a part of many joyful moments—I’m in pictures and videos that prove I was there. I watched the joyful moments; I heard the celebrations around me; I ate cake; I smiled. I did everything but feel joyful. That’s not to say I never feel joy. It’s just unpredictable.

I’ve come to the acceptance that, for me, joy and happiness are not the same. Depression may rob me of joyful feelings, but it can’t touch my happiness. I can’t count on “feeling” happy, so I’ve changed what happiness means to me. It’s a state of being — indisputable evidence of a good life. My husband will say, “I wish you were happy.” I’m happy. “I wish you looked happy.” I’m happy. “What can I do to make you happy?” I am happy. Depression and happiness coexist in my life because happiness is not a feeling.

No matter how I feel or how I’ve struggled, there is evidence of my good life. I’m in a 30-year love affair with my husband. He’s my best friend and I trust him with my life. He has saved me from myself more times than I care to admit. When I feel unworthy of love, I can trust he loves me deeply, madly and unconditionally. That’s how I love him, too. He makes me laugh on days I don’t feel like laughing, and holds me while I cry like I’ll never stop. We’re completely opposite and fit together perfectly. He keeps a 30-year-old picture of us in his wallet. Whenever I see a picture of him, the most authentic smile spreads across my face. It’s a smile just for him.

My husband and I built a family and a loving home together. We raised two amazingly brilliant women who are brave, compassionate and strong. I have friends who love me and check in with me to make sure I’m OK. I get to be creative and share my words with you. I have a job where I make a difference in the lives of older adults and people with disabilities. My life is comfortable and cozy even when my mind feels chaotic.

When depression calls me a fraud, casts shadows to hide my light, professes that it is the only one who loves me, I examine the evidence. I do not find anything depression tells me to be the truth, although it is very skilled in deception and is a master liar and manipulator. Its painful lies hurt me deeply, but the evidence of my happiness heals me until the next battle.

Depression tries to hide the evidence of your good, happy life. Preserve it at all costs. Lock it up and throw away the key if need be to keep it safe.

Redefine what happiness means to you.

I don’t feel happy.

I am happy.