Perhaps Venlafaxine Can Talk? Naw, It's Just Me.

A long while ago I came something of a cathartic realization that happiness is a choice. Which is all well and good, but here's the kicker: it's dependant on other choices you make. Happiness, or overall state of mind or that matter, certainly isn't a fish that you can catch but more so a culmination of all the things you've done.

As best as I can tell I personally derive my positive moods from the things that I do and how well I do them. Fortunately I'm not naturally maligned or at least my mind employs mechanisms to prevent me from following that path in a form of depression.

Now there's a narrative here that I'm not going to tell because I frankly don't want to tell the world. But the end result seems to be more self-realization.

Living an observed life as per usual.