The Anxiety of Good Things
- Tezor Dedam
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
Recently, I have started a great job in communications, set up a decent writing business, and earned a journalism degree. I am also dating the most beautiful woman in the world, who has all three: the cheekiest smile, hair that smells like black castor oil, and my full commitment to becoming her husband. I'm absolutely terrified.
Not terrified in a 'the first day of college' or 'preparing to wear a pink suit to my office end-of-year party' kind of way. I’m not jittery, nor are there any butterflies in my stomach. I am terrified. As in, I stay up till 2 am, biting away at my mind and wondering what could possibly be wrong with my life.
My name is Tezor Dedam, a journalist contributing to a peculiar anxiety experience that challenges conventional views of anxiety and “happiness culture”. This discourse is important because it aids contemporary narratives on embracing joy while presenting relatability on hyper vigilance and what it even means to be happy.
The White-Dress Complex
After wondering what could be wrong with my life for 28 years, I've come to the conclusion that I have a problem with good situations, circumstances, or phases. We could think of it as reverse anxiety or an anxiety of good things. I always feel the fear of an impending bad thing when good things happen: What if I lose it all? What if I'm getting excited too early? What if she's only infatuated, not in love, with me? Why am I under so much pressure to maintain this positive situation? What if this is the universe's compensation for the storm that's coming? I have found that I am not only unable to enjoy these good things, but they, in fact, make me feel worse than if nothing were happening at all or even if everything were falling apart.
I have come to explain this with a white dress complex; if I were in a fancy ballroom full of people in immaculate white attire, I would constantly be concerned about whether my dress was dirty or how it could be stained at any second. But if the room were a mud splash scene, I would fit right in, with a sense of comfort and ease of mind, no matter how much of a mess I was.
Documenting my White Dress
After realising my white dress complex, I went to do some research of my own, and I found a much less interesting name for it – Happiness Anxiety. While there is not a lot of accessible academic research on this issue, research from the Educational Policy Analysis and Strategic Research journal has attributed it to a host of reasons, such as being part of a social culture which does not place enough value on happiness, positive and negative sensations, and a belief that evil will follow happiness, among others. Further research from the Derbyshire Healthcare NHS Foundation Trust attributes happiness anxiety to traumatic childhoods, cultural backgrounds, and even alexithymia, an inability to identify emotions. So, I’m drawing two things from where I am at so far. First, that there’s practically no science behind it, and second, that it consists of several emotional layers.
Let’s talk about these layers.
First of all, I have had traumatic experiences throughout my childhood, I have been disappointed a lot in the past, and I live in a country with socioeconomic woes that constantly put me on edge and convince me that I'm one misplaced policy or economic meltdown away from crashing and burning. These things have formed into a layered system that has caused me to see happiness as a fleeting high. One that seldom comes, but when it does, it is likely to quickly go. So, I usually shoot for a more lukewarm, level-headed approach to life, focusing on achieving a mild sense of fulfilment: having my bills paid, keeping food on the table, and maintaining a basic social network. It works for me – calm, void of expectations, involves fewer life changes, and is stationary yet progressive in its little ways.
Bowing Out of the Ballroom
I once heard an analogy on the advantage of being a warrior in a garden over being a gardener in a war (last metaphor, I promise). I've been obsessed with it ever since. According to the analogy's reasoning, a warrior in a garden is over-prepared for the clean air, chirping sparrows, and the floral bliss before them. But at least they are at peace. Meanwhile, a gardener on a battlefield would not be so fortunate. Because of this perspective, I have reconciled myself to the reality of being at war internally, even when everything around me is beautiful and garden-like. Thus, preventing me from enjoying it.
A warrior in a garden is not always at peace.
A Self-Examination of My Anxiety
Look, I just don't want to be blindsided by life. It's brutal, and it will punch you in the gut while you're leaning back with your eyes closed, taking in that fresh sunny beach air. I'd rather brace for impact, or for that punch and take it in stride when it comes. Because of this, my mind has always resisted peace, even when it was right there to bask in. So, unless I know what is at the tail-end of this wave of happiness, I feel like I will continue to be uneasy.
But don't worry, it's not all doom and gloom on this side. Mostly, because I have started a more reflexive approach to everything. For example, I constantly ask myself what a "tail-end" of happiness would entail, or why there should even be one. I now question why I consider myself a struggling journalist when I'm doing well for my circumstances and progressively growing. When Liverpool goes up 1-0 (big fan by the way), I ask myself why I am suddenly uneasy and look at it as a lead to be lost instead of an advantage on course to a victory. I ask myself, why is my white dress even dirty in the first place? I have said I prefer to have a soiled dress in a room full of soiled dresses to having a soiled dress in a room full of clean ones. But why did I not extend myself the grace of a good laundry day for 28 years?
If you're waiting for a big transformation reveal after I asked myself these questions, then I’m sorry. Though, to be honest, I at least now have a sense of empowerment from interrogating these thoughts that have always bothered me. At least I now have the vantage point of reflection and awareness of my situation.
I could order every self-help book on Beyonce’s internet, I could hike through Hawaii to “find myself”, or I could talk myself through all these metaphorical gymnastics like how the shadows only loom larger because the sun is shining brighter in my life. But I know it will only get better if I accept that happiness sometimes is, in fact, fleeting. And there’s no point in seeking certainty through all of it when I can just enjoy the moments of each fleet.
I know this. Believe me, I actually do. I just have to find a way to implement it in my life. But I’m getting there.
