It's easy to let " not happy" become an enduring identity feature. I had a bit of a shock not long ago to sit up and realize, that dang! I wasn't happy but I was content. I had been this intense, snarly scrapping little b"#%& for so long that realizing that the shoes didn't fit almost sent me into another crisis. Can you think of a dumber reason to have a panic attack? Yet I almost did. It was like, I wasn't ME anymore. Now, I figure, I can live with that.