The Quest vs. Circumstance

Dear Blog,

It has been awhile since we spent some time together.  When I first created you, I planned to use you as vehicle to carry my story of finding happiness to the world.  Of course, the decision I made back then (to write about my quest) came from all the advice I heard the therapists at work telling our clients all the time, "Your happiness is up to you."  "You create your own happiness."  "You determine your fate."

So, off I went, in search of things to be happy about, and to be honest, I did start to feel happier.  I still remind myself to be thankful for the little things every day, because those really are the things that tend to bring me the most happiness.  I have good friends, an awesome little kid, people who make me laugh, and I rock a pretty decent wardrobe of thrift shop clothes.  Something changed though, and the little things that still made me happy, didn't exactly help me capture happy-NESS.  Trust me, there is a difference.

I took some months off from my Quest.  I'm sorry, but I really didn't miss you.  There's so much pressure involved in being happy all the time.  I gave myself permission to be unhappy for a while.  You know, to grieve my losses and admit my fears and even isolate myself on the couch every weekend watching entire TV series on Netflix until my eyes almost fell out.  I let myself forget about reality swallowing me up, and I just surrendered to it.  Some might call this little break I took "depression" but I think that word is way too overused.  I'd prefer to call it, vacation.  I took a vacation from trying so hard and I think it did me some good.

One thing that brief break taught me about the psychological mantra of those therapists I used to work with, was that it's at least somewhat erroneous.  I agree that my attitude goes a long way towards helping me cope with life and keeping my spirits from diving into the eternal pit of darkness, but I don't completely agree that I can just up and whip myself up a big batch of happiness with a little hard work.

You see, there's this thing called Circumstances that kind of always screws things up.  I know it has happened to other people besides me, but I seem to be especially blessed with these miracles.  I call them miracles because people are always telling me that God is giving me these things to make me stronger and better.  All I can think though, is how terribly weak and bad I must have been originally if God has to give me this much crap to make me stronger and better.

I just want to say for the record that it's not my fault that I have End Stage Renal Disease, or that I had to start Dialysis in July.  I didn't create the disease or make it keep getting worse and worse over the years.  Like my Doctor said last Thursday when I told him that the reason I had ESRD was IgA Nephropathy, "That's just some bad luck."  I also didn't purposefully accept a job with a company that was so heartless that it decided to fire me for trumped up reasons once they found out that my health was going to cost their insurance premiums to skyrocket.  I didn't just decide to stop paying my mortgage this month, it's just that Unemployment doesn't pay enough to support me and my son.   I didn't decide to sign up for food stamps because I thought it'd be fun--it was humiliating.  I could keep this list of circumstances going for days, but that would get boring for you so I will stop here.

Anyway, here I am.  I still want to be happy, so I try my best to stay positive, even though people say stupid things to me all the time and all the medical professionals who work with ESRD patients assume we are all 65 or older with grand children and a retirement fund.  I laugh when something is funny (even if I'm laughing at myself) and I joke with my dialysis nurses.  I pretend to be proud of this tube in my belly and crack jokes about that all the time too.  I put baggy clothes on and try to trick people into thinking I'm pregnant, and I joke about the phosphate binders I have to take with every meal.  I refuse to speak of pain or nausea or fatigue, and I push myself harder and harder because I TRULY want happiness!  I know it comes from within, but so does this darned tube in my belly, and the two seemingly fight against one another to my detriment.  I guess that's why I have to come back from my break and start working at it again.

Wish me luck, loan me a buck, or just read this and laugh to yourself and say, "That Rebecca...she just cracks me up."  Any of those would probably make me feel a little happier.