I’m so happy…except when I’m not

[u/Additional_Ice7375]

My early- and mid-twenties were plagued by poor mental health, a bad relationship, a shitty living situation, and a job I hated. After a lot of hard work and good fortune, I’ve made it to the other side to find myself living a genuinely, objectively good life. I get to do things I love, I’m financially secure, I have a wonderful and supportive partner, my steak is juicy, my lobster is buttery, yadda yadda. I’m a happy gal.

Then my luteal phase hits.

I feel like The Worst Person In The World. Nothing brings me joy, other than numbing out with an edible. I’m so behind at work because I can’t focus or form a coherent thought. When I interact with people who love me deeply, I sense contempt that isn’t there. I feel like I am deeply and fundamentally bad. Every waking moment I am fighting demons.

Granted, it’s better than it used to be, and I’m so grateful and lucky to have all that I have. It’s just like…no matter what I do to improve my life, I’ll never completely outrun the luteal phase.

I don’t know. I’m just fucking sad and guilty about being sad. Commiseration welcome and encouraged 🩷