I’ve been looking at old photos recently. Not “infant” old but more middle- to high-school old. Watching old videos too, listening to the songs we used to listen to at that point.
I couldn’t figure out why, I couldn’t understand why my brain wanted me to rehash the past, and see things, see people, more importantly, that aren’t a constant in my life. Not to say I didn’t care about them anymore, but more weren’t people I would talk to every day.
Being me, being the over-sensitive, over-emotional, over-everything-that-I-should-be-able-to-control-but-can’t person I am, I start to over-think, wonder what happened between then and now, why I’m so different now. Why aren’t those people in my life? Most importantly, why was I happy then, and not now?
And then it hit me, like a train; joie de vivre. I used to enjoy life, no matter the circumstances, no matter where I was. There were places I would enjoy more than others, of course. Dubai more than Beirut, school more than university (yes, I know it’s odd), a friend’s place more than a nightclub, but I would try to make the best out of it.
Joie de vivre translated means the exuberant enjoyment of life. It’s what we all should strive for. Instead of me sitting in my office, hating not only life but myself included, trying with all my might not to cry over something silly like a little girl holding a teddy bear. It’s that much of a struggle for me that the innocence that’s paired with a child that resembles my very own childlike persona could tip me over the edge.
I’m not going to say I’m going to go find my happiness, or whatever people do when they have an epiphany. I’m too far gone to find where it is; also adults don’t really get to have joie de vivre, at least not at this point.
At the very least, I do have a plan. A plan that could possibly get me out of this depression and that is kind of exciting. It’s exciting whenever I see myself trying to change my circumstances because I’m not happy, because it reminds me of who I used to be, it reminds me that I’m not just going to be a doormat. It reminds me that someone inside me knows that my happiness is worth fighting for.