As a bipolar, I have known both the distortions of both euphoria and depression. During my worst years of depression, almost anything I looked at filled me with despair. A street sign would be crookard, and the disappointment of imperfection would overwhelm me. Every house built meant destruction of nature, every car meant polution, every person meant more problems.
When I am in a positive space, the opposite can occur. I look at a cloud in the sky, and for no reason, it fills me with wonder and happiness. I delight in the colors around me. The falling of a leaf becomes a wonder as it twists and turns through the invisible air.
So, is happiness as irrational as depression? I have always pictured the ideal place to be is one where you are euphoric, where every moment of life fills you with happiness. But if it is just as illusionary and irrational as depression, how can it be any better?
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