I used to be the happiest person I knew of. I could find the good in everything, and I wasn’t concerned with all the negatives in life. Somehow, over the past year, though, Ive changed from being happy all the time to being happy less and less. I found myself in dark places in my mind. It wasn’t until recently that I noticed how bad it had gotten, but the places my mind was going weren’t healthy places. I had sought out help and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but things had gotten worse rather than better.
Today, it was brought to my attention that maybe my life got worse and my mind went to those darker places because I had been told there was something wrong with me. That I was only crazy because I drive myself crazy worrying whether or not I’m actually crazy like I was told I am. That maybe I would’ve been better off not seeking help, and just struggling without labeling things. That the damage of being told I was broken did more to break me than having the disorder in the first place. I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’m not sure how I feel about that analysis entirely, but it’s not totally without merit.
Regardless of whatever causes the most damage, and regardless of the labels, I haven’t been as happy as I should be lately. So, as I often do, I have made yet another goal for myself and that’s to strive to be happier, ignore the negatives, and pay more attention to all the positives.