I have stopped trying to be happy. For a while, I thought it might be possible, but now I believe something different. There was a point three years ago when my grandmother died and I realized the rest of my life was going to be a series of losses leading up to my own death. Then my family and I lost a few more people before their time and a series of other unfortunate events ensued. It was the most difficult time of my life (still is), but I have also found a lot of meaning in it. One of the things that has changed is that I no longer believe being happy is the singular goal. I mean I don’t mind being happy and know that I will be happy sometimes without even trying, but I just mean I’ve given up on happiness as the point of life.

You are probably one of two kinds of people reading this. You either think I am just given to depression, or you kind of understand what I’m saying. To those of you out there who understand what I’m saying: it’s probably because you’ve been through some stuff – some struggle, loss or other bad stuff. You’re in good company. We have all suffered. Just some of us try to diminish the suffering, focus on the positive and continue pursuing “the good life,” whatever that is. I’m not trying to take any happiness away from anyone. If you can be happy, please do. I’m only speaking to those of you who feel like you are alone in the darkness. Sometimes grief hits you so hard you feel like you’re never going to recover, and you feel like maybe you’re the only one that feels that way.

It’s funny because once you realize you’re on the outside looking in on “the good life,” things other people are doing seem kind of strange. They’re living their whole lives based on this idea of happiness, which may be attainable, but you understand it’s a fleeting thing. Happiness is a mirage. You see it and you almost believe it might be possible for you to have it. Then it vanishes. I feel that way when I watch television. They’re selling the good life. Every commercial (and some shows) makes it seem like the good life is right there for you to go get and we’re all supposed to be chasing it – that that’s the point of life. I call B.S.

Happiness also seems like a game. It seems like you can win. Maybe we all know it is just a game but we play it anyway, hoping for some reward at the end, still also knowing whatever reward we receive will not last. What else do we have to do here on earth but try to be happy? We must do something, right? Otherwise we’re just dying the day we’re born. I have tried to “win” in my life and I’ve had some success, but when you use a wider lens, the “wins” take on a different meaning. They are nothing. The game is no longer the only context. You sometimes wonder why you ever played that game or thought it meant something.

One of the only things I can do that seems remotely worthwhile is writing. I want to share myself with you because if there’s anything worthwhile, it’s sharing in suffering with others. I want to be in that lot – with fellow sufferers. They seem to have some deeper understanding. I know it sounds pretty negative, but the most worthwhile things we can learn are found in our suffering. There is something out there worth having that is not just chasing and attaining “the good life.” And when we stop relying on that evaporating thing, we can find something more. Our suffering makes us tender and more open to receive what is coming to us. Maybe that’s what all this suffering is for – to create receptivity. There’s not much else that can do that the same way.