November 22, 2015
Do you know those moments you have when you really just don’t know why you’re doing what you’re doing anymore? Of course you do. You try to blink away your discontent, your wandering eye. But it’s always that blink; that brief side-glance that gives you away. The discontent shown in your momentarily vacant eyes — even as “happiness” shines around you. What is it about “happiness” that evokes greed and leaves you wanting more? Just when you think you’ve found the thing that singularly brings you more joy than you’ve ever hoped for, it vanishes. Maybe not physically — it isn’t something that walked out of your life — but mentally it ceases to be satisfactory. Your eyes wander. You open your hand and release happiness in hopes of something even better. If better is even possible.
Depression didn’t hit me all at once. If it did I think it may have triggered some sort of defense response. No, depression was a slow burn — like every sadness I’d ever experienced decided to walk the many years back into my consciousness. Some memories took longer than others to arrive. Then one day, they were all back. A reunion I couldn’t even decline to attend.