By Emma Stirland
‘I’m on the pursuit of happiness… I’ll be fine once I get it’ (Kid Cudi)
Happiness. It’s what we’re striving to have, to achieve, to be. The end goal – that ultimate state of being that will have some magical restorative effect, wiping our problems away. But what is happiness? What does it mean to be happy? And why can it feel so unattainable?
This may be the pessimist in me talking, but I don’t know the answers to these questions. That’s not to say I’ve never felt ‘happy’, whether it be laughing with friends or the comfort of watching a couple of episodes of a TV show after a long day. Of course, I can feel content and experience moments of joy. But for a while now, I’ve felt not a lot at all; detached from the strange reality that we occupy living through a pandemic. The effect of this unprecedented situation on mental health and emotional wellbeing continues to worsen, with anxiety and loneliness levels of students being amongst the highest. I find myself overwhelmed by hopelessness, sadness, denial, and brief moments of happiness all at once, leading to an overall sense of nullity. It’s ‘one of those days’ defines nearly every day at the moment. Time doesn’t seem real or tangible anymore, but often feels oppressive at the same time.
I think this line from my journal sums up lockdown life: is it possible to be moving forward, pushed onwards by an unknown but familiar force, yet rooted to the ground, stuck, at the same time?
When was the last time I was happy? Again, this is a question I’m not confident on the answer. Personally, I think this is increasingly becoming a redundant question, defining our emotional state in a single word. A survey I completed for university the other day ended with ‘How would you rate your mental health?’ Torn between two quite reductive adjectives, I settled on “fair” – because if I’m not ‘happy’ most of time, surely that means my mental health can’t be described as “good”, right? This scale approach does make you self-consciously aware of your mental health, acting as a moment to ‘check-in’ with your headspace; however, ranking how you’re feeling opens up uncertainty if you don’t fit into one of these vague categories.
In an era of Instagram, mindfulness and #selfcare, there is an increasing pressure to be happy. And if you’re not, to actively do something about it – whether it be going for a walk, or the self-care classic, a face mask to purge out the problems from the very surface of your skin. Problem solved - or is it? Our digital world has opened up the floor for discussions on mental health and offers networks of support if you’re struggling, all in a few swipes. There’s no doubt that this has advantages for many. But what happens when social media outlets begin to regurgitate the same discourse around being happy or making yourself feel better – for instance in quotes (that are often reposted from other sources without credit) and the same coping mechanisms. The mantra of 'have a cup of tea, do some exercise, or watch a film' sound familiar? In an attempt to not sound too cynical, there is nothing massively wrong with these accounts. Your social media feed is yours to shape how you like, but they can appear, at least to me, quite superfluous, especially when you see how many there are out there. Self-care has become trendy, and this comes with pros and cons. Taking time out for you should be encouraged as a priority, you can’t be everything to everyone and that’s okay. But as #selfcare dominates social media platforms, I’m sure you’ll find at least one of these posts on your Explore page, I can’t help but think that you can have too much of a good thing.
Ever been told ‘it could be worse’ or ‘just think positive’? Hello, toxic positivity. Toxic positivity occurs when you only have a positive mindset, negative emotions are seen as bad and happiness is often compulsively promoted and forced. This denial of our natural emotional responses can be harmful, and even more so right now, when most of us have many reasons to be unhappy, confused, or anxious. During a time when everything is so uncertain, there remains this pressured narrative of ‘making the most of it.’ Pandemic productivity – to be busy, working, ‘productive’ (what is productive at the moment is certainly open to interpretation) is leading to a toxic environment of proving yourself to be coping just fine, amplified by working from home and the difficulty in separating the previously quite distinct parts of our lives. I’ve definitely fallen victim to this productivity pressure. During the first lockdown, I got into the habit of checking LinkedIn all the time, and facing that feeling of inferiority, and laziness almost, when I saw what the people I know were getting up to. The online courses, the internship alternatives, things to boost their CV; everyone seemed to be achieving things, when all I’d managed to ‘complete’ most days was changing my clothes. The to-do list was non-existent in those first long weeks of lockdown and a positive mindset was short-lived.
Life right now feels muted (just like I often am on each Teams call), waiting for a new day to come. I’ve learned to let that toxic positivity go, one day at a time. Journaling has helped a lot. But not those ‘what I’m grateful for’ or ‘today I’m manifesting’ lists that you hear influencers talking about on the reg (but you do what works for you.) My approach involves writing down those late at night thoughts, however pessimistic, convoluted and messy they may be. Not forcing myself to do it each day has also helped, as turning things into a strict routine can often remove the pleasure of doing them at all. What I’m learning is that happiness won’t magically appear by waking up at 5am and being productive, doing your skincare routine or eating your favourite chocolate; human emotion is a complex thing. You may have heard of ‘noting’ if you use meditation apps like Headspace, and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Taking note, whether that be literally on paper, or in my head, like a notification popping up in my brain, of what I’m feeling in that moment. Letting myself feel whatever it may be that day is the realistic, and hopefully healthy, way I’m monitoring my mental health. And whether that be ‘happy’ or ‘sad’, not being on the pursuit of an idealised emotion, and letting each day come without a massive expectation, seems to be the best way forward.