I went to a concert Thursday night.
The concert started with a silly video, which I won’t bother recapping because you kind of had to be there, but it was hilarious and made me laugh. A lot.
Then the band took the stage.
We screamed and clapped and–I’m embarrassed to admit this–I teared up a little. I know, right? That’s just weird. Later in the concert, it happened again. I felt the music reverberate through me (Literally, not figuratively. Very loud, that music.), I watched the people around me dancing, droplets of rain fell on my face, and I got a little choked up.
I’ve been thinking about it since, because I really don’t tear up at things like concerts. Seriously. I’m not just saying that so you won’t think I’m weird(er). This was my sixth Rush concert, and the first time I’ve gotten weepy over Tom Sawyer.
If you’ve been following my blog, you know I deal with depression. Lots and lots of depression. A bucketful o’ depression. I didn’t realize until Thursday night that depression has changed my definition of happiness.
Happiness has become the absence of depression.
This is not an acceptable definition.
As I battle depression, I have a new goal: regain my happiness. It’s not enough to go through life feeling not sad. I deserve more than that, and it’s within my power to make it happen.
And that feeling I had Thursday night? That spilling over of emotion?
That, my friends, was joy.
I will reclaim my joy.
*Thank you, WordPress Proofreader, for recognizing my superiority and contributing to my happiness today.