I Got Better… But Not Happier. What’s That About?

You know, there’s a weird moment no one warns you about:

• You’re not depressed anymore.
• You’re not drowning.
• You’re not in crisis.

But… you’re not okay either.

You’re just there. Existing. Functioning. And weirdly enough, it feels worse than when you were breaking down.

Like, where’s the joy? Where is the happiness? Why does “healing” feel like a waiting room with no magazines?

The Key Takeaway.

Recovery is not the end goal. Survival isn’t joy, and functioning isn’t living. If you’ve made it past your rock bottom, you don’t just need rest, you need rebellion. Joy is not a reward, it’s your birthright. And listen, you gotta snatch it back like a stolen wig.

The Silence After The Storm.

• Everyone claps when you stop crying every day.
• Everyone cheers when you start showing up again.
• But no one tells you what to do after the chaos stops.

You look around and think, “Okay, what now?”

There’s no manual. No blueprint. Just you, your thoughts, and a haunting silence.

• See, the breakdown got attention.
• The glow-up got validation.
• But this weird middle stage? 
• This boring, lonely, no-one-gets-it phase?

Crickets. That silence will mess with you.

How Can You Be Happy Again?

Recovery is not the finish line. It’s the base camp. And happiness doesn’t come knocking.

You have to fight for it.

And no, I don’t mean forced gratitude journals or fake affirmations that taste like cardboard.

I mean real happiness. The kind that makes your chest feel warm and your laugh snort out your nose.

But it’s hard. Because after pain, your brain forgets how to trust happiness.

You get suspicious of happiness.

You side-eye every good day like, “Okayyyy, so what’s the catch?”

Your body gets stuck in survival mode, even when you’re safe.

What Are The Joy Blockers?

• You’re scared of being happy. You think if you get too happy, the universe will come steal it. So you stay numb. Just in case.

• You confuse stability with peace. Just because your life is “stable” doesn’t mean it’s happy. Stop mistaking not being in pain for being at peace.

• Your joy muscle is weak. You’ve been in survival mode so long, you forgot how to play. Happiness feels foreign. Silly. Even fake. But that’s not because joy is gone, it’s because you’re out of practice.

• You feel guilty for wanting more. “I should be grateful.” “At least I’m not where I used to be.” STOP. That kind of thinking traps you. You can thank the past without getting stuck there.

• You don’t know what makes you happy anymore. Be honest, if someone told you, “Take the whole day to do something fun,” would you even know what to do? That’s not a shame moment. That’s your clue to start rebuilding.

So, How Do You Become Happy Again?

You stop waiting for permission.

You start tiny. Happiness isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s just:

• Sitting on your floor doing absolutely nothing.
• Laughing at a stupid meme alone in your room.
• Dancing to a 2010s banger in your pajamas.
• Eating something nostalgic for no reason.
• Saying “no” without a 10-minute explanation.
• Listening to your old self and whispering, “We made it.”

You practice happiness like you’d practice a language. A little every day. Even if you mess it up. Even if it feels dumb. ESPECIALLY when it feels dumb.

You deserve stupid, unnecessary, golden happiness just because you’re alive.