Based on Lori's definition, I am depressed. And I cannot figure out a way out. It could clear on its own shortly. A good song on the radio, a decent commute. Or it could linger and persist and cast a pall over my entire evening. Maybe even the rest of the week. Unsure.
But it's so difficult not to throw a pity party when I feel like this. I start to count the ways that I could pull myself out, and then discount each way. And then my mind wanders to the parts of the world we work in and how I have nothing to complain about. And that simply upsets me further because it's kind of not fair. I guess I'm confusing absolutism and relativism and chronologicism. Compared to many, I have absolutely nothing to be upset about. Compared to the circles within which I operate, I have a little more to legitimately put up on the board. And then to compare against myself even just a few weeks ago, finally I find my justification.
I believe I know the way free of this morass, but if it's the way out, it's not within my control. And it feels like it can only get worse before it gets better. The optimist in me says it must, but I'm struggling with the patience required. And of all times of year, this is when it's least welcome, because there's so much about this particular time of year that I'd rather be taking all in. And I certainly don't like presenting this side of myself to my family, friends and colleagues. But I'm failing to keep up the act.
I was never promised happiness, satisfaction or joy, but I seek it nonetheless. I was promised hardship and suffering, but this doesn't qualify. This is something else.