Maybe I don’t know how to be happy. Maybe it’s because I can’t remember ever being happy. What is happy? If it were that easy I’d be happy all the time. I’d smile 24/7, even when I sleep. Sometimes “things” just don’t fall into place for everyone. There are those who the planets line up for on a regular basis and then there are those of us that experience an eclipse 363 days of the year. That happiness you feel on meds? That’s the illusion of catching yourself. That anxiety? It’s the confusion of what would you actually do if you caught yourself? The low? It’s knowing all of the above things won’t ever happen because when you have a mental illness you are on a road that is never ending, without any rest stops for respite. Eventually you realize that. It’s always going to be a chase. I dont’ know if people will ever understand. Unless you’ve had that depression/anxiety that lives in your soul and body and mind, you won’t get it, and that’s OK. The key is trying to understand it. Or accepting that it exists. This isn’t postpartum depression. This isn’t losing a loved one sadness. (Although those two are very important reasons to be sad and should be acknowledged as well.) This is an, “I’ve lost myself sadness. You know what meds do? They keep you one step behind the kidnapper. You know where yourself is at, but you can’t quite catch up. It’s the chase that keeps you going though.