How to be anxious happy.
Anxious happiness is not something one would generally thinking would exist.
But if one lives with a serious anxiety disorder and can endure no more sedation, anxious happy is the best it gets. Anxious freak out happiness is more illusive but yet attainable.
Realizing that the emotions that grip you at the moment should be reserved for a natural disaster or the collapse of the state around you is the first step in attaining true anxious happiness, anxiety nirvana as it might be considered.
Realizing that though what is upsetting you may or may not be real and that your state of mild paranoia makes reality somewhat difficult to grasp, (as your teenage daughter has made extremely clear to you), there is a will underneath all of this that is somehow able to step aside from the malay of that day and say this may not be as bad as it seems. It might actually be good. In fact, I am often sure that life is really good. This fact is actually extremely clear and is made so by the very anxiety that tries to make it doubtful.
My anxious mind can come up with hundreds of alternate scenarios for the present moment. The foundation of our house could collapse. A serial killer could break down the door and torture us to death. The state of Michigan could disappear in a blazing fire. A plane could fall out of the sky and hit my house. All are possibilities. None can be entirely ruled out.
It is because of these very impending although vague possibilities that I am so grateful for the smallest things. Yes, my former boss and very good friend from the corporation I used to work for won’t respond to my texts anymore and I’m sure that they have had a meeting discussing how I have overstepped my bounds with them and must be cut off from all communications. Yes, I may collapse for a few days until my psychologist tells me that that assumption is probably not true. But I am also aware that I have a loving husband, a lovely family, good friends, excellent medical care, enough food, a telephone, little pads on the bottom of the feet of my kitchen chair that keep the chairs from scraping the aging linoleum, enough twist ties, plenty of varieties of plastic bags in my cupboard, and no glioblastoma for today.
Anxious happiness in a sense creates itself.
