 Written by Jaan C
Peer Support Worker, The Wellness Initiative I remember being happy as a child. As long as my basic physical needs were met, I was a happy kid doing what most kids do. I was a pirate who drew maps that lead to hidden treasure. I was a detective who specializes in solving any and all cases. As a 90’s kid, I went from walking around like RoboCop to pretending to fly like Captain Planet. Nothing bothered me much and when it did, it didn’t last longer than an hour or so. I was more or less happy and content just living in the moment and enjoying the simple things. No responsibilities. No worries. Not a care in the world. Isn’t that why we often feel nostalgic for the good, old days? But somewhere along the way of growing up, I got it into my head that happiness was something to be pursued and acquired. It was no longer an unconditional birthright for me to experience. There were now apparent conditions that had to be met if I was to be happy again. I wanted to be liked by tons of friends so that I could fit in and be happy. I had to act a certain way in order to fit in. I had to figure out what I wanted to be when I grow up so that I can become “successful”, whatever that means. I had to have the latest “stuff” so that I could show people who I am and what I’m made of. I had to stand out. I had to be special. I had to be validated. I had to have control over my life and destiny. I’m not sure if I picked up such ideas from my peers, the adults around me, or the shows and movies that I watched. Possibly all of the above. And like a lint roller being used, I was picking up the lint of ideas that stuck to my mind and caused me to feel less happy, bit by bit over time. Less happy. Less content. More anxious. Mentally, it became a heavy burden to unknowingly harbor this mountain of destructive ideas and expectations. It’s too heavy a burden for any child to have to carry. Or any adult for that matter. Around my primary school years, I started having a tendency towards an extreme need for control out of fear and anxiety which I didn’t recognise at the time. This manifested as obsessive compulsive habits of checking things. And I mean I was checking everything. Everything needed to be checked, locked and secured. Items needed to be correctly lined up and arranged in a certain order. I had to write everything down because I was afraid that I’d forget something important, which would lead to a disaster. I had to wash my hands every time I touched any kind of surface. Fear of uncertainty. Need for control. From the outside it seemed quite comical at times, and I laughed along when friends and teachers poked fun at me in good nature for being so pedantic. I didn’t mind the jokes being at my expense because it was comforting to know that someone was entertained by something that was causing me so much anxiety. Being funny was a much nicer experience than being anxious. But in my teenage years the anxiety really ramped up. I couldn’t follow through with university studies because I was getting headaches from worrying about anything and everything. I dropped out and just hopped from job to job, not really knowing what I was supposed to do. Not knowing what was wrong with me. In between working I would distract myself from anxiety with entertainment and escapism in its many forms. It wasn’t until my thirties that I felt I’d had enough unnecessary suffering and started to question my life. I examined my life closely. I read. I studied. I took classes. I didn’t know where to look, so I looked everywhere. I dabbled in philosophy and psychology. I found faith and spirituality. I simplified my life and began meditating. I started on the path of gradually unlearning all the mental conditioning that kept me from experiencing happiness and contentment. I started to acknowledge, understand, accept and let go of the destructive thought patterns that kept me bound to anxiety and fear. It wasn’t a one-time epiphany, but the start of a lifetime endeavor. Day by day, I’m still making peace with anxiety each time it visits my mind. Sometimes depression also comes along. But it affects me much less now as I strengthen my mindfulness and gain more self-awareness over time. I’m more able to perceive these thought patterns and the emotions that they bring at a safe distance, so that they don’t rule my life as they once did. My daily behavior is no longer as erratic and emotionally charged as it once was. Everyone’s path is unique and we all have different ideas that often contradict each other. Each of our lives will play out differently. But in the big picture, aren’t we all just looking for happiness and contentment? Nowadays I feel that uncertainty is a given in life. Any sense of control is ultimately temporary and subject to change at any time without notice. I find it a much healthier and balanced approach to understand and accept this instead of fighting against it. So when I lost my happiness as a child, where did it go? Nowhere. My happiness never went anywhere. It’s here, right now where it’s always been. It’s here even as I’m about to finish writing this article. It was only the gradual and unconscious buildup of mental clutter that slowly blinded me to the peace and happiness that never left in the first place. Daily life often takes me away from the sense of happiness and contentment, but I try my best to find my way back to it time and time again. It’s a lifelong lesson that I will continue to learn and relearn. Otherwise, what’s the point? Author's Note: I hereby declare that I am the sole writer of this entire article, and that no artificial intelligence was employed in the conception of the material presented.
0 Comments
|