Where's my happy bottle?

Everyone's got a reason for drowning in their misery. Family issues, peer pressure, abusive relationships, ect, ect. They all have a valid reason, and therefore, have the means of fixing whatever it is that's bothering them.

Then there are people like me. Wait, no, there's JUST me. I doubt there is anyone else even remotely like me. Want to know why? I have no problems. My life is hunky-dory. Perfect. With the exceptions of school, homework, chores, occasional bickering fights with family and friends. No one can have an absolutely perfect life, but I think I'm one of the closest people to it.

That's not why I'm different though. I'm different because I don't have any problems to validate my reasons for utter depression. Nothing. Full scale depression should have a reason, right? Not in my case.

So why do I lapse into this slum where I am forbidden to smile, to actually smile and mean it?

This is my theory.

I have always been the happiest person that I know, and now it seems that I have to live up to everyone's expectations that
I=always happy-go-lucky+anything else that's happy
Most times it doesn't bother me. In fact, it makes me happier. But not when I'm in this slum that I often find myself in.

Now because everyone expects me to be happy, I don't want to disappoint them, so out comes my fake happy mask, and I try to make people believe I'm happy.

If I ever were to let anyone know that I was unhappy, it's like people would think that the world is ending, because I'm ALWAYS happy. That's just the way I am. Mostly.

And anyways, why burden them with my unexplainable misery? It would only bring them down too, and I can't do that to anybody. I can't steal someone else's happiness, because I know how horrible it is to not have it.

But that still doesn't explain why I get into this slum in the first place. I don't even know why myself. Like I said before, this is just my theory.

I think I have a limit of how much time I get to be happy. Ridiculous, right? Let me explain then, but bare with me, because I don't really understand it either.

It's like I'm only allowed to have this set amount of happiness in life, and something is regulating it, so I'm not bouncing off the walls with joy for the first half of my life, then am a depressed old hag when I grow old.

So it's like I get a bottle at the beginning of sometime period that I haven't figured out yet. So I'm using my bottle of happy and then I have an amazing day that puts all the others to shame, and it's like I use the rest of my happy that's in the bottle, and then the next day - BAM - I'm in my slum.

Sometimes my slum lasts for only an hour or two. Sometimes it's a day or two. Sometimes it's extreme depression, and other times it's just neutral - not happy, not sad. I never know how long it's going to last, or how bad it will get.

To make it worse, the only thing that I can think about when I'm in my slum, is why I'm in it. And I can never think of anything, until the last time when i created my theory. But thinking that there is nothing that makes me fall into the slum, just makes everything worse. It's the only thing I can focus on. So I end up pushing away family and friends, the people I love most, and isolate myself in a place where I am alone with my misery, where no one can save me, or drag me away from. No matter what. The only one who can save me is whoever it is that gives me another bottle of happy. And sometimes they don't come for a while.

So before i try to climb out of this slum, I need to dwell on one more thing, just because this one has been pretty rough.

What you ask?

Well, I had though that I had overcome my irrational depressions. Because they usually come regularly, very often. Certainly I would not have two extreme ones within a month of each other. That has never happened before. Until now. I thought after the last one, that I had finally found enough reason to stay away from the slums and I hadn't fallen into any, so I believed that I was saved from them, because of the person who saved me from my last one.

I've never been so wrong in my life.

I don't think that they will ever go away. I'll always have them, and only if they come during that one week, will I ever be able to be saved from them, by a person at least. All the other times, I'm just going to have to wait for that bottle of happy.

There are some things that help though. Or at least, I think they do. So maybe one day they will be able to take the place of my bottle of happy. Since I know the slums will always come, maybe I'll be able to find other ways to cope, besides my happy bottles and one rescuer.

Until then, I'm waiting for my happy bottle.