Furiously Happy

I know that I am crazy. And that has made all the difference.

I read Jenny Lawson’s first book, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened a few years ago–not when it first came out, but after it had moved to the general shelves at Half-Price. I didn’t know what it was, I just found this silly book with a mouse on the cover and it was ridiculous enough, and on sale enough, to pick up. I probably got through the first few sentences before I was in love with her.

As soon as I found out The Bloggess was coming out with a new book, I started looking for updates. Due to my awesome Twitter skills, I won a contest and Jenny herself sent me a copy of her book! Yay!

Let me just tell you. Guys. Oh man. I was already laughing and crying by the end of the Note From the Author. Not even kidding. Furiously Happy is so much more intense than the first one. Jenny has gotten REAL about her battle with mental illness. I already admired her, but now she is basically my idol. This woman is badASS. To have struggled so intensely with brain fuckery and come out on the other side with such an incredible sense of humor and bombastic desire for life…sometimes it’s just hard to believe this is possible.

Sometimes it can be dangerous for one person with severe anxiety to talk to another person with severe anxiety. For example, before reading this book, I had never considered the concept of toilet corpses. I have OCCASIONALLY, especially after binging on cop shows, panicked about finding dead bodies in cars or ditches or other…normal…places. But in toilet stalls, nope. Thanks Jen. ‘Preciate that one. I can never pee again.

Furiously Happy is the kind of book I want to write someday. Jenny Lawson gives me so much hope that we can beat this stigma. Maybe not today. Maybe not this year. But there are people like me, people like Jenny out there who are not afraid to stand up and say I AM SICK AND IT IS OK TO LOVE ME ANYWAY.

“When I look at my life I see high-water marks of happiness and I see the lower places where I had to convince myself that suicide wasn’t an answer. And in between I see my life. I see that the sadness and tragedy in my life made the euphoria and delicious ecstasy that much more sweet. I see that stretching out my soul to feel every inch of horrific depression gave me room to grow and enjoy the beauty of life that others might not ever appreciate. I see that there is dust in the air that will eventually settle onto the floor to be swept out the door as a nuisance, but before that, for one brilliant moment I see the dust motes catch the sunlight and sparkle and dance like stardust. I see the beginning and end of all things. I see my life. It is beautifully ugly and tarnished in just the right way. It sparkles with debris. There is wonder and joy in the simplest of things. My mother was right.

It’s all in how you look at it.”


I won a free copy of this book by tweeting really fast.


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