Furiously Happy

by Jenny Lawson

We all get our share of tragedy or insanity or drama, but what we do with that horror is what makes all the difference.

It’s about taking those moments when things are fine and making them amazing, because those moments are what make us who we are, and they’re the same moments we take into battle with us when our brains declare war on our very existence.

I am a fighter when I need to be.

And for that I am proud.

Mentally ill. It’s a phrase that once scared me, but now I wear it like an old jacket, comfortable but ugly. It keeps me warm when people look at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I haven’t. I’m mentally ill.

I am very aware of the fact that I’m not right. I know hiding under tables and in bathrooms isn’t normal. I know that I’ve carved out a life that lets me hide when I need to because I wouldn’t survive any other way. I know that when my anxiety attacks hit, my body isn’t actually going to kill me, in spite of how it feels. I know that when I get suicidal thoughts stuck in my head I have to tell someone else who can help because depression is a cunning manipulator. I know that depression lies to you. I know that the few weeks a year when my face feels like a stranger’s mask and nothing but physical pain can bring me back to my body there is a limit to how much I can hurt myself and still be safe in my own bed. I know that I am crazy. And that has made all the difference.

Maybe one day I’ll easily acknowledge the frank truth . . . that I have no other choice but to breathe and move forward.

this struggle might make me stronger, if it doesn’t first destroy me.

stop judging yourself against shiny people. Avoid the shiny people. The shiny people are a lie. Or get to know them enough to realize they aren’t so shiny after all. Shiny people aren’t the enemy. Sometimes we’re the enemy when we listen to our malfunctioning brains that try to tell us that we’re alone in our self-doubt, or that it’s obvious to everyone that we don’t know what the shit we’re doing.

How can we be expected to properly judge ourselves? We know all of our worst secrets. We are biased, and overly critical, and occasionally filled with shame. So you’ll have to just trust me when I say that you are worthy, important, and necessary. And smart.