I remember experiencing the world much more vividly when I was a little boy.
I would step outside on an autumn evening and feel joy as the cool breeze rustled the leaves and caressed my skin. In the summers, I would listen to the orchestra of insects buzzing around me. I would waddle out of the cold swimming pool and the most wonderful shiver would cascade out of me as I peed in the bathroom. In the winters, I would get mesmerized by the simple sound of my boots crunching the snow under me.
These were not experiences that I actively sought out. They just happened. I did not need to stop to smell the figurative roses, the roses themselves would stop me in my tracks.
As I got older, I started feeling less and less and thinking more and more.
I’ve tried meditation, recreation, vacation, resignation, and medication. Some of these things have helped but I am still left wondering… is this a side effect of getting older? Or is there something wrong with me?
I think there’s definitely something healthy behind the idea that depression is actually a fairly natural or reasonable state, however hard and painful it can be. Especially for anyone that wants to be mindful of the danger of psychopaths or sociopaths who are probably the types of people that seem oddly immune or unable to understand or empathise with depression.
Otherwise, I’ll just say that a “second childhood” can be a thing (as far as I can tell), where all of the concerns of middle age fade away and we’re forced to wrestle, naively perhaps, with the sheer reality of existing.
My therapist said to me the other day that anxiety is the brain’s survival mechanism and depression is “Safe mode.” It’s so hard in the modern world for most people to find the in between because there is so much to give us anxiety and make us feel like we are in danger and so of course since the body always seeks homeostasis, depression is sure to follow. It’s like an up and down Rollercoaster with no end.