When were you last happy?

I hope your answer to the title of my post is something like now, all the time, always!

But I've pondered this because I remember a scene from a movie (I forget which) in which one character says he thought he'd be happy once his dream came true, but in reality he was miserable. The other character tells him to think back to when he was last happy and go do that again.

It's 3:10AM and I can't sleep, as usual. My appointment with the mental health guy is at 2PM today. No doubt we have to hash out the crippling emotional pain and depression, yada, yada, yada.

So I've been thinking: when was I last happy?

A few years ago I was deliriously happy. I had a great routine with a man that made everyday special, even the ordinary was special. I had some wonderful routines with him, like Sunday morning coffee and clipping coupons because it was a big hobby at the time. Or sitting in bed playing The Sims on our respective computers and comparing how our games and stories were progressing. Or lying in bed talking about our dogs and our future and even our some day children.

There was a time right after my surgery in August 2007 when I had a horrible spinal headache for about a month and I had to wear this cumbersome and awful binder around my stomach so my pump would settle in right. I would spend the majority of the day knocked out by hefty doses of oxycontin and then when my husband got home he would help me out of the binder and I would get to take a shower, slowly peeling off the surgical glue still affixed to my sutures. I would use the most wonderful body wash from the Body Shop and come out feeling like a million bucks. He would re-apply the dressings on my sutures and help me back into the binder, and then for a brief hour or two we were husband and wife. It was a horrible time. But I looked forward to seeing him and going through that little ritual every single day.

This may sound melodramatic, but I never felt truly loved and accepted for who I really am, uncensored and impolite and "unladylike" and just really me until I met my husband. I always felt that people, family and friends, loved some idea or some version of me. And I always tried to be that version or idea to seek their love and approval.

So to make a long story even longer, this is when I last felt happy.

But I want to be happy again. Having a taste of it makes you crave it all the more. And I think if I wasn't in so much pain and I could actually do things in my life, I could be happy again. But I have to say I am grateful and indebted to the man who showed me what happiness was and who gave me such a rich amount. I think it was inside me all along. I think it is there now, just lying dormant, waiting for my spring.