The Fight for Happiness

My dad died.

Or rather, my dad was killed. On an ordinary Saturday night more than two months ago.

I don't know how I feel anymore. At first, there was just this numb sadness, too dulled to cause true pain. And then I saw his body, his lips painted too pink, his stomach so much softer than it ever had been in life. From far away, it looked like he was just sleeping, like I could almost see the slow movement of his stomach as he breathed. But he did not breathe. He would never breathe again.

Depression came next. I'm not a stranger to depression, to true depression. Crying every night from the memory of his voice, not being able to sleep without dreaming of him, waking to a certain feeling of wrongness. And all I ever wanted to do was sleep. I can't describe the fatigue. It seeped into my bones, made my life hell.

A blurry hell.

I can't truly remember what I've done the past two months. What has occupied my time? I don't know at all. But I was getting better.

The depression was lifting; I was less tired, less pitiful.

And then my cousin died.

Or rather, my cousin was killed. On an ordinary Friday night three weeks ago.

I held myself aloof from that death, trying to hold on to the sanity I had so recently rediscovered. I tried so hard not to feel that familiar bleak sadness during the funeral, the feeling that we are all headed toward that coffin one way or another.

Why does it have to be like that? Why do we have to be aware of our own impending demise? Why are we the only species on the planet that must suffer through the knowledge that we are not eternal? And how are we capable of ignoring that fact often enough to live lives outside of worry and panic?

To quote one of my favorite bands, in the end, it doesn't even matter. I'm getting over these low spirits once and for all. I've fought through this sadness, and I'm taking a stand.

And I'm documenting that stand.

Here is my life, starting fresh from today. It may not be a perfect happiness I've achieved, but I'll fight for it nonetheless.