WHEN THE JOI DE VIVRE GOES AWOL
It’s Truly Embarrassing To Admit & I’m Trying to Shake It, But I’m Depressed
Nothing specific, everything in general
I know what my life sounds like. I write about the charming French village where I live with my partner of five years. I write about trying to master the language of Moliere — it’s far from mastered, but still worth the effort. I wrote several pieces about an 80th birthday celebration in Rome with my good friend Kit. All taken together, it sounds like a great life. And it is. I wouldn’t exchange it.
But depression has been hovering like a cloud for the past week or so, and I can’t get out from under it. It would help if I understood why. Recently, I wrote about the wars raging on several continents, the destruction and suffering and a world that seems to grow ever darker. Hardly a cheerful topic, but one that certainly puts whatever I’m feeling into perspective. How dare I write about depression?
Yet it’s there. Heavy and unshakeable.
I bicker with my partner, who brings me coffee in the morning in a cup that says, Je t’ aime. (I…
