Sunday, September 6, 2009

Who needs happy pills?

I have always been reluctant to reach for the medicine cupboard when something is wrong and it's usually the last thing I think of if I have a headache or a cold. Usually the pain and discomfort of minor illness disappears of its own accord in a few days, so I don't think of medication unless it becomes unbearable. However, I'm beginning to understand why people might become addicted to anti-depressants - I've never taken any but there are times when I do wonder if taking a pill would lift me out of whatever it is that makes me feel unhappy. It wouldn't deal with the cause though, so I'm not sure that the short-term relief that comes from a drug would ultimately help.

Do I really need help of that kind? Would therapy help? Let's face it, the power to be happy does lie within, whether we like it or not. I can't keep blaming people around me for upsetting my apple cart, no matter what they say or do (or not), so I must be responsible for the way I respond to them.

I fear I am becoming the grumpy old woman I never wanted to be. I have been changing over the past 17 years and I'm now a very different person. I think it's a result of increasing age and responsibility combined with fewer causes to smile and laugh the way I'd like. I've lost a good bit of my wit and ability to make people laugh and I've become more serious and less confident in myself.

I've started getting worked up over matters over which I have no control, and then hiding away in my thoughts and preoccupations to the exclusion of others, just because the reality is too hard to take. I had a dear friend many years ago who was popular, fun to be with and appeared to be happy, but inside was depressed and frightened and full of self-doubt. Perhaps that applies to more people than we realise. What we see of people is often just an illusion. We see what people want us to see. I just find it hard to hide my true feelings.

If there's one thing that is guaranteed to raise a smile for me, it's my ten-year-old son. Thankfully he's still at the stage where he comes to me several times a day for a hug and to chat about what he's been up to and he always makes me laugh with his jokes and antics. That's got to be better than pills and therapy!