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Written for non-fiction anthology ObsessionI Don't Want To Be HappyReleased: 2022
By Breanna Lancaster Happiness:
-The unattainable goal that we are continuously striving to achieve to appease societal and personal expectations of how we should be. -The state of not being unhappy. -Who the fuck knows? |
How are you? Good How are you? Not great
How was your day? Good How was your day? I’ve had better
How was work? Good How was work? I couldn’t wait to leave
How was your day? Good How was your day? I’ve had better
How was work? Good How was work? I couldn’t wait to leave
When someone asks us a question as simple as “How was your day?”, we are not automatically inclined to answer honestly.
What do I say if I’ve had the worst day of my life?
What do I say if I find myself boiling with anger and wanting to scream?
What do I say if everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong and I don’t even know how I managed to make it through the day?
And how the fuck am I meant to reply if what I have to say doesn’t reflect the happy narrative society tells me to live by?
Nobody wants to hear the gritty details of my feelings during small talk. It’s all superficial ‘greats’ and ‘fines.’ It’s never ‘i’m so angry I could punch something’ or ‘I’m so fucking sad today.’ But what would happen if we decided to reject the idea of constant positivity and embraced our sad emotions just as much as our happy emotions?
To put it plainly: nothing. Nothing extraordinary would happen. The world would continue to roll around as it does, and we would continue to exist every day. Monday to Sunday. January to December. New Year to New Year. Absolutely nothing earth-shatteringly bad would happen if we decided we wanted to spend our lives freely feeling just as sad, confused, and unsure as we feel happy, positive, and joyful.
The one thing that would change? Our society. If we rejected our obsession with happiness and embraced all the emotions on the spectrum, we would ultimately live happier and healthier lives. How fucking ironic.
We’re all striving to be our happiest selves, that’s almost a given. We don’t want to live sad and miserable lives; we want to experience the most exciting paths in life that bring us nothing but joy and love. But the path to that life is not all rainbows and butterflies.
We love and we lose.
We’re happy and we’re sad.
We face acceptance and rejection.
We like and we dislike.
And ultimately, one day, we will be the happiest we have ever been, and that may last for what feels like forever, or it may last a day. We want and beg for nothing more than to be happy, but it’s damn near impossible to be happy all the time.
So why the fuck are we so obsessed with being happy?
I have searched and searched trying to find the answer to this question. But there is nothing quantifiable to explain this emotion we as a society are fixated upon. Somewhere, somehow, we decided happiness was the ultimate state of being and now we are facing the consequences of that.
We airbrush our pictures, we only post our best pictures on social media, we go to yoga, we go on diets, we exercise, we post our happiest moments, and we try to make it appear as though we are living our most perfect lives. We do all these things that are supposed to bring us happiness and then feel ashamed when we don’t get the results we believe we’re supposed to be seeing. And that shame leads to an even more dire need to strive for happiness; because if they can be happy then so can I.
What a crock of fucking shit.
What benefits does diet culture have?
It leads to eating disorders, feelings of self-hatred, body dysmorphia, and poor mental health.
What benefits do airbrushed pictures have?
It leads to false realities of what beauty looks like, of what we’re supposed to look like, of a world that doesn’t exist.
What benefits do we get from participating in activities that we see make other people happy and think will do the same for us?
This leads to nothing but confusion and pain when we don’t get the appropriate feelings of joy and pleasure.
We’re sold a lie on what a happy life looks like; the perfect loving partner, the well-adjusted kids, the active lifestyle, the healthy eating, the emotional suppression, the therapy (but never admit that), this, that and fucking everything makes up the ‘perfect lifestyle’ that is supposed to make us happy.
But half of that shit wouldn’t make me get out of bed even if you paid me on the days when I feel nothing but sadness. And it certainly wouldn’t cure the anger simmering inside me.
To me, none of that screams happiness. It screams pain, horror, grief, depression and anger. All emotions that don’t fit our happy narrative.
So I’ll ask again, why the fuck are we so obsessed with being happy?
What do I say if I’ve had the worst day of my life?
What do I say if I find myself boiling with anger and wanting to scream?
What do I say if everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong and I don’t even know how I managed to make it through the day?
And how the fuck am I meant to reply if what I have to say doesn’t reflect the happy narrative society tells me to live by?
Nobody wants to hear the gritty details of my feelings during small talk. It’s all superficial ‘greats’ and ‘fines.’ It’s never ‘i’m so angry I could punch something’ or ‘I’m so fucking sad today.’ But what would happen if we decided to reject the idea of constant positivity and embraced our sad emotions just as much as our happy emotions?
To put it plainly: nothing. Nothing extraordinary would happen. The world would continue to roll around as it does, and we would continue to exist every day. Monday to Sunday. January to December. New Year to New Year. Absolutely nothing earth-shatteringly bad would happen if we decided we wanted to spend our lives freely feeling just as sad, confused, and unsure as we feel happy, positive, and joyful.
The one thing that would change? Our society. If we rejected our obsession with happiness and embraced all the emotions on the spectrum, we would ultimately live happier and healthier lives. How fucking ironic.
We’re all striving to be our happiest selves, that’s almost a given. We don’t want to live sad and miserable lives; we want to experience the most exciting paths in life that bring us nothing but joy and love. But the path to that life is not all rainbows and butterflies.
We love and we lose.
We’re happy and we’re sad.
We face acceptance and rejection.
We like and we dislike.
And ultimately, one day, we will be the happiest we have ever been, and that may last for what feels like forever, or it may last a day. We want and beg for nothing more than to be happy, but it’s damn near impossible to be happy all the time.
So why the fuck are we so obsessed with being happy?
I have searched and searched trying to find the answer to this question. But there is nothing quantifiable to explain this emotion we as a society are fixated upon. Somewhere, somehow, we decided happiness was the ultimate state of being and now we are facing the consequences of that.
We airbrush our pictures, we only post our best pictures on social media, we go to yoga, we go on diets, we exercise, we post our happiest moments, and we try to make it appear as though we are living our most perfect lives. We do all these things that are supposed to bring us happiness and then feel ashamed when we don’t get the results we believe we’re supposed to be seeing. And that shame leads to an even more dire need to strive for happiness; because if they can be happy then so can I.
What a crock of fucking shit.
What benefits does diet culture have?
It leads to eating disorders, feelings of self-hatred, body dysmorphia, and poor mental health.
What benefits do airbrushed pictures have?
It leads to false realities of what beauty looks like, of what we’re supposed to look like, of a world that doesn’t exist.
What benefits do we get from participating in activities that we see make other people happy and think will do the same for us?
This leads to nothing but confusion and pain when we don’t get the appropriate feelings of joy and pleasure.
We’re sold a lie on what a happy life looks like; the perfect loving partner, the well-adjusted kids, the active lifestyle, the healthy eating, the emotional suppression, the therapy (but never admit that), this, that and fucking everything makes up the ‘perfect lifestyle’ that is supposed to make us happy.
But half of that shit wouldn’t make me get out of bed even if you paid me on the days when I feel nothing but sadness. And it certainly wouldn’t cure the anger simmering inside me.
To me, none of that screams happiness. It screams pain, horror, grief, depression and anger. All emotions that don’t fit our happy narrative.
So I’ll ask again, why the fuck are we so obsessed with being happy?
“There’s research that shows the more we fixate on happiness as a goal, and the harder we pursue it, the more likely we are to become anxious and lonely, and even show signs of depression. Of course, there are people desperately unhappy, or clinically depressed, who are trying to find contentment, but alongside this is a relatively new phenomenon of people who are not unhappy but have been sold a dream of happily ever after. We’ve set our expectations to such an unrealistic level that people believe the normal ups and downs of life are a sign of something terribly wrong.”
- Ruth Whippman
We are so focused on being happy that we are in fact not happy. Happiness isn’t a goal, it's a fleeting moment in our lives when something amazing happens, it's a long-lasting dream come true and it’s something we experience all the time. We’re so focused on making happy memories that we don’t get to feel the joy that comes with being truly happy. We’re not stopping to seize the moment and squeeze every ounce of happiness out of what should have been our happiest moments.
I want to be able to exist in a world where I can feel angry without being looked down upon. Anger is a part of who I am.
I want to be able to cry in the rain or in the privacy of my own home without feeling shameful. Sadness is a part of who I am.
I want to be able to experience grief while finding joy in the moments otherwise taken for granted. This is part of who I am.
I don't want to be locked into an idea of what my life should look like simply because our media and society are convinced that I would be better off, or because I’m conditioned to believe that happiness should be my default setting.
I would be better off feeling as free as the wind moves through the trees. I would be better off feeling as blue as the goddamn ocean. I would be better off being as angry as the loudest thunderstorm. I don’t want to be quiet and smiley, I want to be as loud and grumpy as possible just to rebel.
My feelings shouldn’t matter to anyone else just as their feelings shouldn’t matter to me. I don’t care if someone else is happy or sad, I just care that they get to feel however they want, whenever they want. To feel is to be free.
I want to be able to exist in a world where I can feel angry without being looked down upon. Anger is a part of who I am.
I want to be able to cry in the rain or in the privacy of my own home without feeling shameful. Sadness is a part of who I am.
I want to be able to experience grief while finding joy in the moments otherwise taken for granted. This is part of who I am.
I don't want to be locked into an idea of what my life should look like simply because our media and society are convinced that I would be better off, or because I’m conditioned to believe that happiness should be my default setting.
I would be better off feeling as free as the wind moves through the trees. I would be better off feeling as blue as the goddamn ocean. I would be better off being as angry as the loudest thunderstorm. I don’t want to be quiet and smiley, I want to be as loud and grumpy as possible just to rebel.
My feelings shouldn’t matter to anyone else just as their feelings shouldn’t matter to me. I don’t care if someone else is happy or sad, I just care that they get to feel however they want, whenever they want. To feel is to be free.
“I can sympathise with people’s pains, but not with their pleasure. There is something curiously boring about somebody else’s happiness.”
– Aldous Huxley
All these feelings and I still can’t help but wonder who I am if I’m not happy. If I’m not constantly striving to be my most mindful and healthy self. If I’m not working in my dream job. If I’m not achieving my goals right here, right now. If I am not floating about my life believing that everything is happy and well.
Not because I want to be happy all of the time, but because I don’t understand the obsession with happiness and why we let it control our lives. And because although I feel most comfortable and at peace in feelings of monotony, sadness, and roguish anger, I still feel this deep down need to strive for happiness even in my most devastating moments.
So, when I googled ‘“Who are we if we aren’t happy”’ I did not get the results I was expecting. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t articles upon articles about how to know if you’re in an unhappy relationship. It certainly wasn’t an article titled ‘“How to be happy for other people when you’re miserable’...”
Again, I ask, why is it that we are so stuck on the idea of happiness being at the forefront of who we are? We are so entrenched in the belief that happiness is one of, if not the most important thing to strive for in life that we struggle to even notice our own unhappiness without needing a BuzzFeed quiz to tell us what we shouldn’t be accepting in our relationships. And so many of us are in a position where we don’t know how to handle conflicting feelings of happiness for others and sadness in our own lives and experiences because we are simply not taught how these things can co-exist.
It has to be one or the other.
But life is not black or white. We can experience joy while experiencing pain. We can experience happy moments while being overwhelmed with grief.
We can be happy AND sad, and we can be happy OR sad.
In any case, do we even know what this elusive happiness actually is? Happiness is a universal term, but it is not a universal feeling. What makes me happy would not make you happy, and what makes you happy would not make me happy. Happiness is such a subjective feeling and experience that I can’t fathom why we are obsessed with an emotion that cannot be eloquently defined.
Reading makes me happy. Watching TV makes my sister happy. Camping makes my Dad happy. Spiders and plants make my housemate happy. Makeup makes my best friend happy. Yet happiness has a darker side. In this sense, alcohol makes an alcoholic happy. Drugs make a drug addict happy. Addiction makes an addict happy, if only fleeting.
With such darkness connected to the idea of happiness, I cannot understand why we favour what we believe is the ultimate emotion when there are so many more fitting ways to feel. While everyday things make my heart sing, adversely so do harmful addictions to lost souls. We hide behind feelings of relief, contentment and peace because we are afraid to admit the truth.
In our society, happiness can be as dark and dangerous as any other emotion. It’s not superior to anger or sadness, but rather best friends with both. If happiness is our ultimate goal, then why do we respect the innocent things that bring me joy but hate the dark things that bring others joy?
Not because I want to be happy all of the time, but because I don’t understand the obsession with happiness and why we let it control our lives. And because although I feel most comfortable and at peace in feelings of monotony, sadness, and roguish anger, I still feel this deep down need to strive for happiness even in my most devastating moments.
So, when I googled ‘“Who are we if we aren’t happy”’ I did not get the results I was expecting. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t articles upon articles about how to know if you’re in an unhappy relationship. It certainly wasn’t an article titled ‘“How to be happy for other people when you’re miserable’...”
Again, I ask, why is it that we are so stuck on the idea of happiness being at the forefront of who we are? We are so entrenched in the belief that happiness is one of, if not the most important thing to strive for in life that we struggle to even notice our own unhappiness without needing a BuzzFeed quiz to tell us what we shouldn’t be accepting in our relationships. And so many of us are in a position where we don’t know how to handle conflicting feelings of happiness for others and sadness in our own lives and experiences because we are simply not taught how these things can co-exist.
It has to be one or the other.
But life is not black or white. We can experience joy while experiencing pain. We can experience happy moments while being overwhelmed with grief.
We can be happy AND sad, and we can be happy OR sad.
In any case, do we even know what this elusive happiness actually is? Happiness is a universal term, but it is not a universal feeling. What makes me happy would not make you happy, and what makes you happy would not make me happy. Happiness is such a subjective feeling and experience that I can’t fathom why we are obsessed with an emotion that cannot be eloquently defined.
Reading makes me happy. Watching TV makes my sister happy. Camping makes my Dad happy. Spiders and plants make my housemate happy. Makeup makes my best friend happy. Yet happiness has a darker side. In this sense, alcohol makes an alcoholic happy. Drugs make a drug addict happy. Addiction makes an addict happy, if only fleeting.
With such darkness connected to the idea of happiness, I cannot understand why we favour what we believe is the ultimate emotion when there are so many more fitting ways to feel. While everyday things make my heart sing, adversely so do harmful addictions to lost souls. We hide behind feelings of relief, contentment and peace because we are afraid to admit the truth.
In our society, happiness can be as dark and dangerous as any other emotion. It’s not superior to anger or sadness, but rather best friends with both. If happiness is our ultimate goal, then why do we respect the innocent things that bring me joy but hate the dark things that bring others joy?
