Bathrobe and Oreos Monday

I read a blog of a rather well-known person; she has thousands of followers and has been on TV / radio.  She is an amazing cook and her recipes are to-die for. She is also relentlessly upbeat and cheery and perky.  She posts things on Facebook like, "I woke up this morning, blessed and filled with joy -- I decided to find joy in my life, and now I wake up happy, choosing to be happy every single second of every single day."

I'm not a total, doom-and-gloom pessimist, but I do have my Eeyore moments. I read things like that, and my first thought is, "I declare shenanigans!"  While I agree that our happiness, or lack thereof, can be driven by our own attitude, I refuse to believe there are people who are perpetually upbeat and perky. 24/7/365.  Forever and ever, amen.  Until death do us part.  That's just ... unrealistic.

I also know people on the other end of the spectrum, folks who are perpetual Debbie Downers, who can suck the joy out of any situation and who are NEVER happy.  My husband and I talk about one such person, saying if she were to find a hundred dollar bill, she'd complain it wasn't $500.  She can find the down side, the negative, in any situation.

As with Perpetually Perky, I think Debbie Downers are play acting.  I don't believe people are truly deliriously joyful every single second of every single day, nor do I think being happy is just a "choice"; just as I don't think being Negative Nellie is just "how someone is".

Sometimes, life sucks. Sometimes, it's a burden and a drudge and a heartache. Sometimes, just getting out of bed and showered is a monumental success. I have days like that -- I assume we all do. Thankfully, those days are few and far between, and they're usually short-lived; and when whatever crisis that triggered it has passed, I'm back to my old self.  But I get tired of hearing that happiness is a "choice" and that we need to just *decide* to be happy.  

What's so wrong with, for legitimate reasons and for short periods of time, being in a pissy, "feeling sorry for myself" mood? 

I'm not talking about those folks who have built a home on the shores of the Pity Pond and can't go five minutes without dipping their toes in the water ... those people tire me out.  I wouldn't want to be forever walking around with a rain cloud over my head, but just as unrealistic are the "life is wonderful because I choose to greet each morning with a hug and a kiss" people.

I have had great heartache in my life -- AS HAVE WE ALL.  My specific heartaches may be mine alone, but we all share similar stories:  the loved ones we've buried too soon; the hurts and betrayals of those who were supposed to never do that; the anguish of loss that leaves us curled up in the fetal position, unable to even speak.  I've also had unimaginable joys in my life -- AS HAVE WE ALL.  My specific joys may be mine alone, but we all share similar stories:  the babies we've held, so overcome with love that all we can do is weep in wonder; the feeling of astonishment when you look down the aisle and you see someone who loves you with an intensity and passion that you know it's a forever-love; the beauty of a perfect sunset and the realization that God Himself did that, just for me!

But those sorrows and joys aren't the day-to-day moments. The day-to-day joys are smaller:  a perfect cup of coffee, a "thinking of you, let's have lunch" text from a friend, a favorite song on Pandora bringing back a forgotten memory that makes you smile. 

And sometimes, the day-to-day stresses, while small, can pile up.  And up.  And up.

When I have good thing followed by good thing followed by good thing, my natural inclination is to be happy (duh).  No one condemns me for that, it's natural and normal and expected.

But when life is one of those "Let's crap on Sandra" phases, and stuff piles ... and up ... and up ... my natural inclination is to NOT be happy (duh, part II).  That's natural and normal and expected.  

I'm not talking a full-blown, "let's medicate her" depressive episode (yet, I reserve that option for later, tho) but some days I want to -- NEED TO -- spend the day in my jammies, feeling sorry for myself.  Tomorrow, I'll tackle the budget, the overdue electric bill, the broken washing machine, whatever ... but in my opinion, a short-lived swim in the Pity Pond can be good for what ails ya.

I wonder, do those "greet every sunrise with a hug and kiss" people really, truly believe that?  I'm grateful for the blessings I have, I have a pretty darn good life filled with amazing things and moments and people.  It's not a perfect life, but it's pretty terrific and I wouldn't change much about it even if I could, but there are times when it gets tiring ("it" being the piddly junk that litters our life:  budgets that work on paper but not in reality, cars that inexplicably flash the Check Engine Light, rude people in WalMart, family members who say/do the ONE THING that makes your brain explode).  And when that piles up, I don't want to greet the day with a cheery song.  I want to stay in bed, read stupid books and  eat cookies.

Do the Perpetually Perky people of the world ever feel that way?  And is it healthy to never ever just say, "Oh, screw it.  I'm going back to bed"?  

I would bet that Perpetually Perky's husband and kids might tell of a time or two when she moped around in her bathrobe, eating Oreos.  And in my book, that's ok.   I'd actually feel more able to relate to her Greet The Sunrise With a Hug and Kiss philosophy if I knew she was human and, every few months, had a Bathrobe and Oreos Monday. 

So to both the Perpetual Debbie Downers and the Perpetually Perky Pollyannas, I think you're full of it. No one (excluding certain patients diagnosed with psychological issues, and who are currently unmedicated) can, or should be, on one end of the spectrum or the other. I do find the simple  joy in little things -- but I also, at times, get overwhelmed and need to lick my wounds.  And guess what?  I think that's perfectly normal.

Now, morning people?  Y'all are just weird. :)