Clinical depression usually occurs in multiple episodes with periods of remission in between. Across twelve years and counting, I must have had half a dozen, and during each one, I undergo a slew of elemental changes:
I turn into a serious, grim human being. Gone are the dumb puns, the whimsical quirks, the lighthearted banter, the nonsensical humor.
I become more sarcastic, more caustic, more cutting.
I lose interest in the hobbies I am known for. Someone who knows me to be a bibliophile will find me avoiding books, someone who knows I am a die-hard Formula 1 fan will find me perhaps not even tuning in to the latest Grand Prix, someone who often discusses video games with me will find me not gaming for days. From a man passionate about his varied interests, I devolve into a man only desultorily interested in life.
I become pessimistic and nihilistic. I feel nothing will ever work out, that life is an endless succession of disasters and disappointments.
Normally, I am a driven, motivated person aiming to become the best writer and lawyer I can be. But right now, I see no point to life, besieged by a staggering loss of purpose and motivation. As a result, from the outside, I must seem like someone disinterested…
