Dear Prudence,
2020 has been the best year of my life. That’s the problem. The country is reeling from a pandemic, rampant unemployment, and violent racism, but in the last six months my husband has finally found a depression treatment that works, which has wildly improved our marriage. I’ve finally found a job that pays well and that’s enabled us to move out of poverty. Now that I have health insurance, I was able to treat a chronic injury and start exercising again. I’m no longer in constant pain. To top it all off, a nasty and manipulative relative died. I know that sounds callous, but you wouldn’t believe what she put us through. We’ve been hanging on by our fingernails for years, and suddenly our quality of life has skyrocketed, during one of the worst periods in modern American history.
I’m trying to keep this low-key. I’ve been wearing masks in public, I practice social distancing, have been donating generously to a number of charities and nonprofits. But I feel like I’m pretending to grieve when I’m not. Yesterday on a Zoom call, someone asked how everyone was holding up during these tough times, and someone else responded, “Wow, [LW] looks great!” I realized I was smiling, even glowing. Is there something wrong with me? If so, how do I fix it?
—Right Feeling, Wrong Time