There are some books that you just know are going to be special to you.
Yet I was hesitant to pick up Furiously Happy.
When Let’s Pretend This Never Happened launched, I had it pre-ordered and devoured the whole book within days of it showing up at my door (thanks Amazon!). But when Furiously Happy debuted this past fall, I held off.
Despite enthusiasm for Lawson, and for what I knew would be a hilarious and heartfelt and amazing book, I wasn’t quite there.
I knew that reading Furiously Happy would be both an amazing read and a slightly triggering experience.
I’ve had my own share of issues with anxiety and depression, and I knew that I was walking a bit of a tenuous path at the moment, and I didn’t want to go down that road too far. I worried that by reading Furiously Happy, I’d spark more introspection than I was capable of handling at the moment.
Now, as I’m just closing the book, I know I made the right decision to wait. I needed a little space to be able to enjoy Lawson’s humor and sensitivity without reading into it only personal failures and limitations. I needed to be able to do what Lawson says – and be furiously happy in the moments when I can, so that in the moments when I can’t be quite so happy I can remember what it feels like.
So I laughed.
And I cried.
And I did feel introspective and self-critical.
But at least I was self-aware enough to remember how much depression lies and to see the good alongside the bad.
I admire Lawson’s courage, putting herself so blatantly out in the world in such a raw way. I appreciate that’s she’s able to model what living in your own skin can be like, even when your brain is working against you.
Lawson’s memoirs are a lesson in self-love in a very special way – acknowledging our crazy, owning it, and living the best we can.
I’m proud to be a member of Lawson’s tribe.