When the Other Shoe Doesn't Drop
I've spent years running from anxiety and depression. No one told me I'd try to run from happiness too. Thoughts on the strange terror of finally feeling safe.
Close your eyes for a second and picture your happiest Self.
What’s the first snapshot that comes to mind?
Are you…
crackin’ inside jokes over red wine & truffle fries
wiggling your butt into the sand on a quiet beach
hittin’ pause to make out while watching a rom-com
spreading your arms wide on a mountaintop
When I was met with this prompt,
I couldn’t conjure up a darn thing.
Nothing specific, that is.
All I got were bodily sensations:
dropped shoulders
a settled stomach
a woman sitting in a chair, feeling gravity support her
a body that wasn’t bracing for impact
That’s when I realized something.
When you’ve spent most of your life in survival mode, happiness doesn’t arrive as anything more than the absence of anxiety.
But here’s where it starts to tip upside down, and suddenly I’m hanging by my feet.
How is it that happiness can feel every bit as frightening as pain?
The fuuuu…?
Like, let me get this straight.
I spent the better part of a decade healing…and now that I’ve finally stumbled into a season of genuine bliss, my nervous system responds with…dread?
Cool.
As Benoit Blanc says in Knives Out: “It makes no damn sense. Compels me, though.”
And it was that befuddling paradox that compelled me to carry a cold bottle of ginger beer into the Secret Garden (what I lovingly call our backyard) and harumph my angsty ass into my egg chair.
Once settled, I pressed record.
A note about video diaries + a gentle trigger warning
One of the greatest gifts I’ve ever given myself was permission to discover my inner terrain.
I’ve been unfurling my thoughts on camera for five years now, and it has been a lifeline, time and time again.
Normally I’d share the audio with you.
But this one in particular dissolved into sobbing and a level of anger that surprised even me. It also touched on suicidal ideation.
So, to spare your eardrums (and perhaps my pride), I’m offering you the transcript instead.
Read gently, friends.
June 23, 2026 - Video Diary Transcript
My emotions are good and sauced up.
I just rewatched a video diary I made last summer. I was sitting over there in the grass, reflecting on the brief reprieve I’d found after the hell storms of 2023, as I called them.
That little pocket of peace arrived just before the darkest depression I’d ever experienced.
[Deep sigh]
That season asked a lot of me.
I cannot believe I survived.
The amount of surrender required when you struggle with depression is…unbelievable.
You can’t snap out of it.
It’s here to stay if it wants to stay.
God in heaven, it’s a ride.
All emotions are a ride.
But the ones that stick? That stay?
The ones that nest inside your brain minute after minute, day after day?
And you don’t know when—or if—you will ever feel differently?
That is a level of surrender I never knew was inside of me.
[Starts laughing…then crying]
Because what the fuck am I supposed to do?
Kill myself?
[Sniffs]
Yeah.
It’s like, either kill yourself or experience the hellish emotion.
Either way, you’re screwed.
And the only reason I’m laughing is, there’s nothing else to do but laugh.
It’s a trap either way.
[Sighs]
But that leads me to what I’ve been mulling over this past month.
I have been feeling a level of bliss that I have never felt in my entire life.
And yet, beneath the surface of that bliss, I am having a difficult time trying to…[breaks down]…trying to accept the peace.
The joy.
The wonder.
Accepting the good is almost harder than succumbing to the darkness.
Because, here’s the thing.
When you’re marinating in any kind of darkness, you don’t wanna be there. But you’re there. And you don’t know how to get out. But when you’re there, you go: “You know what? I’m gonna try my darnedest to find baby pockets of peace.”
You know?
It’s making coffee.
Taking a bath.
Snuggling with the dogs.
You learn to find these tiny moments of reprieve when you’re in prison.
A spark.
Just enough to get you through the hell you’re in.
That is a very different experience…[breaks down, tries to breathe]…than when you’ve beaten depression.
And suddenly you’re happy.
And you don’t know how it happened.
You don’t know how you got here.
But you’re here.
And you’re so accustomed to the dark…
…that you’re having a hard time adjusting to the light.
You’re struggling to believe that it’s something you can rely on.
Something you deserve.
Because for most of your life, all you’ve known is self-hatred, lack, depression, anxiety.
So…
This past month, I have felt like I’m walking on sunshine.
I’ve walked around thinking: I’m in heaven. This is beautiful. I cannot believe where I am.
And granted, nothing about my external world has changed.
Not a thing.
Everything has changed in here.
[Points to heart]
Inner peace.
That’s what it is.
And yet, some part of me still can’t believe that I’m allowed to be this happy.
I still keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I keep thinking, “I don’t deserve to be this happy.”
And just like that…the happiness begins to slip through my fingers.
So what’s the point?
I’m so god damn tired of pushing a boulder up a hill just to convince my mind that I’m worthy of good things.
[Wipes tears]
[Takes a sip of ginger beer]
I’m still sorting through these emotions.
Still holding my breath a little.
Maybe that’s why—when I pictured the happiest version of myself—I didn’t see a mountaintop.
I saw a nervous system that finally believed she was safe.
Safe to drop her shoulders.
To unclench her belly.
To feel the quiet support of gravity beneath her.
Maybe that was my mountaintop all along.
For now, anyway.
I’m curious.
If I asked you again…
What does the happiest version of yourself look like?
Has your answer changed?
I’d love to hear it.
Reflection Question
What’s one thing you’re doing to coax your nervous system into believing you’re allowed to be happy?
I read every response, and I promise: you are not alone in learning how to feel safe feeling happy.
Let’s help one another heal—one lived experience at a time.
Thank you for sharing this vulnerable post. It reminds me of my struggle through grief and depression after divorce and working on my healing for so damn long. When I was finally ready to date and immediately met the man of my dreams, it seemed too good to be true. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop too, and told him so. His response (which still makes me smile) - What if I only have one shoe? And two years later I'm finally no longer holding my breath.
Thank you for sharing this. It was so instructive to hear about your process of filming yourself as a literal mirror for reflection. and what a true peace a relaxed nervous system allows you. Enough and content - a satiation.