Defining Happiness

How would I begin to define happiness? Am I the right scribe to ask? I've struggled with depression longer than I haven't now But I noticed something today And it's not the first time I've noticed it It's stunning, really, how easy it is to solve a puzzle When you decide to focus on literally anything else for a minute And realize nothing is as linear as it seems I broke through it once before on a balmy Fall day The second of my three weekly doctor's visits for the second month in a row Getting to see those sights I could only see on base And getting to relax exactly as I chose once I returned home I rode that high for months Drinking in the sights, the sounds, the smells of the world around me Colors faded to winter gray, but it was all more vivid to me than ever And yet it faded once more, so it goes For the better part of a year, I've been trying to fake it No matter how crushing the world is, faking a smile got me through the day To provide the slightest pushback against a world of pressure And today I realized, what's the difference? Fake happiness, real happiness No matter where you pull that strength from, does it truly matter? If it's all getting you through the day, does it truly matter? If you can't get homemade, store-bought is fine The fake motivation was enough to kindle the real thing And thus placebos are the ultimate cure-all if you lie hard enough to yourself After all, once you've tricked yourself into thinking you're happy If you're on top of the world and safe, isn't that the true definition anyway?