I had self diagnosed depression that started around late August last year and ended around mid January
I just felt sad and lost interest in most things, and any interest j had didn’t last very long. As an example, I love fishing, and I will commonly fish for 4-5 hours straight with little luck and still enjoy myself. When I had depression I would start to lose interest after like a half hour or so, if I even had any interest in the first place. Another thing that I noticed was that I was indifferent about most things. I didn’t really care what happened, if I lived or died.
Not having interests in the things I used to.
It’s not just not being able to enjoy your own life, it is not being able to conceive of happiness in any life. It isn’t just situational, it is global.
The thing that led me to get treatment? Getting off work and bawling my eyes out every day.
In hindsight? Not feeding myself in college, feeling like I was constantly fighting tears, not trying to connect with others because I assumed they wouldn’t want to be friends with me.
It took me almost nine years to realize I had depression. It’s the first thing I thought about when I saw all those social media posts at the new year waxing about what people accomplished during the decade. All I could think about was how nearly a decade of my life had this black cloud over it and I wish I or someone else had noticed sooner.
Realizing that I didn’t care one way or the other. If I had kids or didn’t. If I stayed in my career path or went back to school. If I lived or died. I just don’t care.