The Key to Pulling Oneself Out of Sadness Is Not Just "Deciding to Be Happy"

Today, I felt sad.
Today, I felt defeated.
For those unaware, I have been on anticoagulant therapy (warfarin/Coumadin) for nearly two months now, following a pulmonary embolism I had in August. This has changed my life in a number of ways, and I discovered another little side effect last night.
Last night, my best friend and I went to the Texas State Fair, and I did more walking and standing than I had since before the embolism. My legs and feet were sore afterwards, but I was glad to feel like things were getting back to normal for me, and that I was out and about again.
Today, however, I've been paying for it. In addition to my leg muscles being sore, I had little red pinprick bruises all over my lower legs, from where capillaries burst and bled into the surrounding tissue, taking longer to clot due to the warfarin.
Once back at home, I was doing okay for awhile - just keeping my feet elevated, as instructed by the doctor. Then I started thinking about how not even three months ago, I was a relatively healthy (albeit anemic) woman in her early 30s. I know there's so many others who have health issues a lot worse than me, but in a moment of self-pity, I broke down and cried. I cried for my old life, before all this happened. I wanted it back. I wondered if it was all downhill from here, or if I would ever achieve a level of normalcy again.
My mom called to check on me, and listened to my troubles. She reminded me, once again, that I was alive, and that was the most important thing. As I talked to her, I petted Charm and smelled the flowers that Mom had gotten me recently, because she'd known I'd been feeling down lately.
I had two friends call me today, too, and they asked me how I'd been, and told me what was going on in their lives right now.

I felt better after these conversations, and it soon hit me, as to why: I felt grateful. Grateful that I had people in my life that cared enough to call. Grateful for my family. Grateful for my friends. Grateful for my pets, such as the cat I was petting, who had stolen my seat while I was out of the room. Grateful for the roof over my head, and the car in my garage. Grateful that there was medicine to help me get better, even if it did have a few unwanted side effects. Grateful for the flowers on the table and the food in the fridge, and the rain that would soon come down and water my hibiscus plant. Grateful for life. Grateful for it all.
Something clicked for me in that moment. No matter how much we try to psych ourselves into "just being happy," it seldom works. Why is that?
Maybe, just maybe, we're starting in the wrong place. While the antonym of sadness may be happiness, in practice, it's not that simple. Happiness needs a place to start, and I think that place is gratitude. So perhaps, the key to pulling oneself out of a period of sadness is not just "deciding to be happy..."

It's deciding to be grateful.

And from that gratefulness, happiness will follow.
Now, don't mistake my words to mean that someone with clinical depression just needs to count their blessings, and (ta-da!) they'll be cured. Out of all people, I would be one of the last to make such a ludicrous suggestion. Nor would I suggest minimizing the struggles of others by reminding them, "it could be worse!"
But for a simple case of self-pity such as I had today, I can tell you that it certainly helped me to remind myself how very blessed I am.
The next time you are feeling down, let yourself cry and vent, by all means. Let yourself be sad, if you need to be sad. But when you are ready to feel happy again, start by feeling grateful - because there is always something to be grateful for, even if it is only the breath in your lungs.
And let that spirit of thankfulness and gratitude lead you back towards happiness.