Therapist N 1
“You were happy?”
“I don’t know if you would call it happy, but I was having a good day.”
“Tell me about your good day.”
“I slept through the night. This morning the voices didn’t tell me to do anything more than tie and untie my shoelaces three times.
I felt hungry for breakfast. And in my advanced psych class I spoke up.
I’d never done that before, but someone mentioned OCD and I contributed to the conversation.
I didn’t admit I was talking about myself, of course.
I said I had a friend who heard voices. And as I was walking back to my dorm after class that phrase kept echoing in my mind.
I have a friend. I thought maybe it could be true someday.
And I felt this lightness in my chest. Breathing came easily and I noticed the sunlight in the trees and the birds reminded me of being on the island, and I think I smiled.
It was the best I’ve ever felt at this place. ”
“What you’re describing sounds a lot like happiness.”
“But it didn’t last. I got back to my dorm and my roommate, Ashley, had packed all her stuff in boxes and was shoving the last of her clothes into a suitcase.
She said she couldn’t stand living with me anymore.
I mean we hardly ever spoke, and she barely came into the room except to sleep and get dressed.
But she said she was sick of my constantly rearranging her shoes and lining up pencils on the windowsill and remaking my bed ten times every morning.
I didn’t even like her and I had wanted a single all along; a lot of seniors get singles.
But for her to storm out like that, packing everything up when she knew I’d be gone—I just felt so rejected. ”
“I’m sure you did. That’s a reasonable reaction to her behavior.”
“Ashley walked out with the suitcase and said her boyfriend would come and get the boxes and I was left alone sitting on my bed and I felt hollow. No, not hollow, empty. Like a balloon that had been popped. That crash from happy, if that’s what you call it, to miserable, left me unable to move or think or even breathe for a moment.
And then the voices started back up and I spent the rest of the morning making and remaking her empty bed with my sheets. ”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Ashley certainly could have handled the situation with more compassion.”
“Do you think I could have manic depression? It’s happened before—teetering on the brink of happiness and then plunging into the dark abyss.”
“Something good happened and you felt happy; then something bad happened and you felt sad. That’s not manic depression, Tess. Those are normal human emotional reactions.”
“But that crash from high to low felt so devastating. I think what happened with Ashley would have been so much easier if I’d already been in my usual dour mood.”
“You shouldn’t use depression to dull your emotional senses.”
“Then what should I do?”
“That moment of happiness didn’t just happen, Tess.
You created it. You got a good night’s sleep.
You ate breakfast. You spoke up in class.
You paid attention to the positive things in the world around you.
These are all things that can be in your control.
You can take steps to make yourself happy. ”
“But if I’m happy, I could crash into misery again. The higher you are, the harder the fall.”
“That’s a risk we all take as human beings. But happy people are the ones who think it’s a risk worth taking.”