You can be happy, but you have to choose to see the world as it is, not as you interpret it to be, and that requires you to become aware of your mind silently trying to keep you in the same comfortable and certain situation that has led to you being unhappy.
For others, it’s a quiet thing. Toiling away in the wee hours, creating something no one will ever see. It’s not art because someone felt something when they saw it. It’s art because it’s an outpouring of the self, of the artist.