Am I ungrateful — or mentally ill — if I am sad?

On depression | Part 2

Thank you for the reactions — on and off Substack — to my I’m not a happy person, and it may be your gain | On depression | Part 1, which was the first post on the topic of the darkness we all live with to varying extents.

Having identified that changemakers are a unique new psychological profile, I have discovered that many grapple with burnout, darkness, even despair. In my commitment to support all changemakers in their vital work, I have chosen to share my experience with these heavier feelings because ignoring or suppressing them only makes it worse. By contrast, I hope that through reflection and discussion, we can — together — make space for a greater range of human experience than what the mainstream affords us. In this post, I step into some hot water on religion, mental health, and psychopathy.

A deeply private person, I find it difficult to share even when I hope it makes a difference. As such, I’m putting this post behind a paywall to honor all the paid subscribers who support me and my work on behalf of changemakers worldwide.

If you know others looking for this insight, please share this with them. And in addition to comments, I invite your questions. Is there anything you’d like me to address in future posts?

Am I ungrateful if I am sad?

The cult of happiness says, Yes.

The illusion of powerlessness seconds that motion.

If I feel heavy — sad — discouraged, I — supposedly — don’t see all the wonderful things. What if the reverse held just as true? What if it were in fact all the wonderful things I see that that fuel my grueling work to make them a reality for all?

Image credit: Duckleap Free Resources from Pixabay under CC License.

Robust science demonstrates that practicing intentional gratitude improves one’s sense of wellbeing. However, it is bogus to argue that unhappiness is a symptom of ingratitude.

What if sorrow were, at times, the only appropriate response to reality?

I can tell you that nobody has ever offered me a justification for being content that didn’t feel like a copout. At least a little bit.