lack of joy

I’ve been absent




Life get’s that way sometimes, doesn’t it?

While I normally have tons of material cached in the memory banks of my laptop, I have been suffering the inability to convert emotions to words and as a result, I have depleted my reserves completely.

Because I have done this dance many times, I know the battle I face is in momentum and I know you have to force the normality that does not happen unless I make it a choice and not an action.

I’ve been suffering from atrophy.




I have struggled to shape a formless mass of feelings not understanding or knowing what to call them specifically. It’s like someone dumped all the primary colors into a pot, resulting in sludge, a disgusting mess of color; rather than applying color in individual layers, like words on paper, individually beautiful or vibrant.

I am unable to paint either a story or a picture that is vibrant and bold, honest and real because my raw material is damaged.




The funny thing about depression is that you have no idea how deep it is until you finally fight your way out of it and look back at where you came from. The only thing you can do is trust the fact that it will eventually end, simply because it always has. Your frustration with the length of time it is taking to feel better, is actually a positive sign that you are aware that you are depressed and trying to crawl forward into normal again.




I am not looking for miracles or the sudden dawning of revelation type events. I simply want to feel again. I want to feel something besides numbness interspersed with sadness. At this point I am not even searching for joy, I would settle for peace or contentment. How about a sense of well being served with a side of pleasure for simple things?

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12 Responses to lack of joy

  1. prewitt1970 says:

    Anything you offer is a gift, be it served warmed on the side or hot from the oven your gifts run as deep as the ocean. May you find the light that leads from you darkest depths.

  2. silkred says:

    Feeling the pleasure of simple little things is my main in these circumstances… its a subtle pleasure.. best taken gently..

  3. hemmingplay says:

    I’m a fellow-traveler with depression, as are others in my family. It’s a genetic thing, I think. And, it’s an insidious condition, where the sufferer lives inside this self-reinforcing bubble that feels completely like the way things ought to be. We have trouble seeing it as something that is changeable.

    But you’ve done the exact right thing by voicing your situation in this piece. It’s a declaration of reality, and that will lead you back. Expressing a feeling of hopelessness is the first step in claiming power. The beauty of this craft is that everything is raw material, grist for our weird little mills. Nothing is wasted, everything recycles into a poem or story. It’s the ultimate victory. 🙂

  4. jayne says:

    You’re in my thoughts, positive and true. That may not help, but I want you to know that. Something you inspired that I wanted to share was that you inspired me to just love my dogs more with a post of yours. Hugs to you R, Jayne

  5. You write so beautifully. At least you know your there, and can focus on pulling through, as you always have. I hope it goes away soon, and your back in your game. But as I see it, your game is just fine. Thanks for all you bring to light 🙂

  6. A rich and, regardless of lament, beautiful expression of where you are. Wishing you contentment and peace. Praying joy returns to you. Time returns the ability to discern colours from the ‘murk’. Thinking of you.

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