Is it wrong to somedays not want to feel joy? Is it wrong to say that on days that I feel calm, happy, and collected, I resent myself a bit? I dislike myself because by accepting this joy and calmness, I lose my ability to reflect and write. See, when I am happy, the last thing on my mind is to write. I want to do something. I want to go on walks. I want to explore. I want to be with friends. When I feel sad, I feel more myself. I feel like I can write more. I feel like the work I produce comes out sounding and feeling a whole lot better. I find a sort of comfort in my sadness that I struggle to put into words. It’s almost like being a kid and waking up on a Saturday morning. You are warm and safe in your bed. That’s what it feels like. I struggle to get up and put on my big girl pants. I fight to get the day going. All I want to do is lay in bed and write.
I just wish to keep music playing behind me as I think about my life and reflect through my writings on where my life is heading. Sadness brings a type of safety that I don’t have anywhere else in my life. I know what to expect from my depression. I know how a day will go. Any joy that I experience is amplified. But when I am happy, my life can only get worse. Happiness can be ripped away from me. Joy can turn against me. Yet, sadness is constant. It cannot get any worse. It does not trick me. Grief is open and always honest when it comes around.