Happy Face 2

I used to really be a critic of phoniness, especially this whole put on a happy face nonsense. I would simply scoff, "Sit on a happy face." I hated positive people, thinking them as universal liars, really deeply miserable and unhappy. Projection maybe? I am writing here from the life experience of someone who has known more than my share of trauma, sadness and pain. I hated phoniness, it seemed to just negate the authenticity of my suffering. And I have always disliked and deeply distrusted this culture of phoniness and of putting your best face forward, and for what? I have had to modify my position somewhat. I know that over this past week, it has been very difficult. the seasonal Christmas depression hit me with double, even triple force this year, and I was completely unprepared for it. I had done my due diligence to prepare against this eventuality, but it didn't work. Even following Christmas Eve and Christmas Day spent largely worshipping, eating and helping out with people at church, everyone ended up leaving for their family Christmas celebrations, and I ended up going home alone. People always exclude me, or almost always, and especially when I am most vulnerable. One very dear person, whose friendship I have celebrated over the decades did invite me for Christmas dinner, but there were logistics that made it impossible this year, but we did have time to chat on the phone in the afternoon of Christmas Day, and that helped. It was Boxing Day that packed the sucker punch. My laptop went into its third coma in a month and this completely sealed my social isolation. I was worse than miserable. I felt suicidal. And there was no one to reach out to, whom I didn't want to drag down with me. I did resist the urge towards self-destruction, and it was easier than I thought it would be. I reasoned, very carefully, that since my father's ongoing rejection and hate of me had contributed to this depression and isolation, that it would be a horrible crime against the universe allowing that small-minded, petty, hateful little bigot have that kind of influence on my life and lead to my destruction. I was not going to give that little ogre the satisfaction that he could drive me to killing myself, just because he was my father, and just like all parents end up doing to their children in some form or other, has wielded over me the power of life and death. I decided that my dignity is worth far more than that kind of trade-off and for this reason, one week ago, when I felt like jumping off the Granville Bridge, I chose to keep walking instead. There is another reason I opted not to harm myself. I would never dream of inflicting that sort of violence on another human being, nor even on an animal. Why then would I do that to myself? I must be worth something, and my life must have some value, even if others don't appear to believe or acknowledge this, otherwise, God would not have summoned me into existence, and I would not be alive now. Which is to say, my take on life, even though I am a Christian, is decidedly existential. I don't need a reason to live. Living is its own reason. God is, and so you and I are as well, and that gives us worth, that gives us value, and this is all very good. So, I have decided that even if I am miserable, even if I am persuading myself to stay alive, I will continue to be kind to others. I will continue to greet strangers with a friendly smile. I will continue to treat others with kindness, consideration and respect. And I will smile. Even if my heart is breaking, they don't need to know that. Their hearts are also broken. Someone has to start faking it long enough to make it a reality,. Might as well start with me. Happy face.