I think I’m down to a 6 on the depression scale. Things seem just a little greyer lately. Yesterday, I was actually awake at 7:45 in the morning, but I couldn’t get out until 9:30. I remember being a hard charger. While I didn’t leap out of bed, I made it out in good order, got ready and got to work. Yesterday I might as well been trying to move a mountain with a teaspoon. To lie there, helpless, makes me angry. But it wasn’t enough to get me going.
Another thing is food. I no longer enjoy eating. To me, food is simply fuel to keep me going. I don’t enjoy the taste, I don’t savor the company if I am out eating with my family or friends, as long as it isn’t nasty, it’s just “okay.” I have all of the excitement of eating as I do taking a dump. They are both the same to me, merely something that must be done.