Depression? Or a New Season?

So there I was in our dark little house in a California mountain town in 1986 feeling something new. New, but not good. 

I awoke one morning no longer feeling like reading the books I'd always loved or thumbing through the magazines which had always inspired me (BORing). I didn't want to work on crafts, paint rooms or take any walks--all things I'd previously loved.

Nowadays, nearly everyone has heard that those can be signs of depression. And I agree. When I noticed myself no longer enjoying what had once almost defined me, that's right about the same time that my years of depression began.

For me, that depression didn't stem from a chemical imbalance, but rather, an attitude imbalance. All sorts of old ideas, wrong beliefs, expectations and disappointments spun, lopsided, inside my head like a cataclysmic tornado. Or something. I had no idea what was happening, so basically blamed all else except for myself (and rather than seeking change).

Anyway, this post isn't really about that.

It's about this other thing--this thing of strangely no longer enjoying what, once, could barely wait to do. Like I said, I agree that it can be a sign of depression or of--

--finally spiraling because of your out-of-alignment thinking
--eating the wrong foods for your particular body (trying to live off of processed sugar, caffeine and animal fat, for example, especially when you're as old as I am. Take my word for that one.)
--not getting enough sleep, exercise, good air or good friends. It's amazing how much a bit of online research can help regarding depression symptoms (especially if you actually use the advice you find). And a trip to a good holistic doctor, of course.

So there is that. But there's something else. 

There are times when, suddenly, I no longer feel like doing those things which I absolutely loved doing only last year--or last month. Some hobby, some favorite movie, book or song genre, some specific part of my whole identity-- suddenly will feel like only a memory. A pleasant memory, but something removed from whom I am presently. 

Whatever, I find myself no longer even caring much about it.

But now in my late 40's? I've learned not to panic when that happens. I've seen it's more like shedding an old skin, a leaving behind of what I once was so to make room for what I have become.

In other words, it's become, for me, a sign that I am growing-up. Changing.

And that is nothing to be afraid of! Actually, it's a sign of a new season, marvelous things to come and a cause for daily celebration. What matters is that we look upon what's happened within the light of anticipation.


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"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me." ... 1 Corinthians 13:11