A few years ago, I found myself depressed for the first time.
All of a sudden, it wasn't a myth--depression was real. The inability to get up in the morning was directed by my brain, but it was as real as any physical pain and hardship. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't take it.
Then, I made a list of things I needed to do to improve my life by giving it meaning and direction.
It included some relatively easy goals, like Travel to the West Coast (which I haven't done yet).
And it included some step-by-step goals, like Be More Healthy.
And it included some lifetime goals, like Be a Better Person.
And more.
Sometimes I think it's a shame that external circumstances (getting fired and then getting a new, better job) stopped my depression. Sometimes I think that by becoming happy again, I lost something.
At least I'm working on my health. And maybe when the recession is over, I'll take that plane to the west. Maybe even drive there...
