One of the little facets about myself that I’ve always drawn an amount of pride from, was my belief that I was “psychologically hardy”. My brain has always allowed me to reside within my concept of who I am with no fuss, and no muss. My head has always been a safe place.
Which might be why it took me nearly a month to realize that I had sauntered vaguely downwards into a depression of sorts. It began simply enough. Last month I wrote a Tools of the Trade feature about my body. It was a difficult post to write, but I was pleased with how it came out. The following Monday I sat down to bang out another pulitzer-worthy post, and… nothing. I had nothing. No motivation. No inspiration. Nothing to say.
I thought perhaps I had just “drained the reserves” with the body post, and I just needed more time fill back up. I managed to finagle my way out of having to write anything new that week, and proceeded to wait for the universe to strike me with a thought worth sharing.
It never came.
I began trying to make a more deliberate effort. I wantonly flipped through some old books and looked online for new ideas. I spent time outside in quiet contemplation, tried to get my hands dirty and make some art, and tried to watch thought provoking movies. Nothing worked.
It was last week when I finally realized that maybe something else was going on besides just a stubborn case of writer’s block. I sat down and started writing a list of all the ways I felt:
Unwilling to leave the house.
Well, shit. I’m no psychologist, but I know enough to know what all of that adds up to: Depression. Not like, an inky black one that ruins everything it touches, but more of a subtle charcoal gray that just makes everything… murky.
This past weekend I got to attend Donald Miller’s “Storyline Conference” in Nashville, Tennessee. It was an amazing experience and it has given me a lot to chew on, much of which you’ll see in the coming days, I’m sure. I had hoped that it would snap me out of the funk I currently find myself in, and I think maybe it will… But it hasn’t just yet.
All things considered, I would be more worried about this state of affairs, but I’m wondering if maybe God or some part of my brain is trying to tell me something. This feeling is so vastly different from my normal worldview, and it came on me so fast… I don’t know. I guess I’m hoping I can think or maybe do my way out of it still.
So, that’s me. That’s where I’m at. That’s why the blog may have felt a little on the lighter side content-wise lately. If praying is your thing, I would certainly appreciate it if you’d think of me. If it’s not, I’ll accept sincere sharing of experiences, meaningful ideas, and bawdy limericks. Shalom.