Have you ever sat back and thought, I’m not the person I used to be? I have. I remember enjoying things more and actually having several passions, let alone one specific to a particular subject matter. But, now? I often find myself displeased with my life, not liking what I do or where I am.
But that’s life, right? You gotta work to make money to pay your bills and sustain your family, even if you’re not happy doing it.
I personally do not like this mentality. But, isn’t it true? How many of us have jobs we don’t want, living in a place we don’t want, doing things we don’t want to do? I know I do. I remember when I was younger, I thought to myself, I’m going to be different. I’m going to do what I want to do, even if it’s not the best paying thing out there. I didn’t factor in that I would get married in college. Nor the fact that I would have a baby a few years later. When new circumstances get introduced into the mix, our priorities change. But what about what I wanted to do? Am I now just supposed to become this brainwashed zombie that wakes up, goes to work, comes home, cooks dinner, and goes to bed?
What I didn’t realize was that when I went through the worst of my depression, I let it take over. I stopped painting and drawing and reading and writing and designing and all that I once loved to do because I just didn’t want to do them anymore. That’s what depression does to you. It changes you and takes away all possible enjoyment. But we can’t let it. We need to fight back and remember what we are passionate about, or once were.
We need a break from this world. Something to remind us that we’re still our own person and that society didn’t win. We need to know that we’re still going somewhere in life, even if it doesn’t seem that way right now.
Life is bad enough and life with depression is worse. I know how hard it is to push back, but we have to grab ahold of who we once were and become that person again. Because once we lose our passion, we lose our will. And when we lose our will, what’s left? A dead end job. Bills. Anger. Frustration. Resentment.
I keep hearing that all too familiar phrase happiness is a choice. I never liked it. I didn’t feel like my emotions were being validated. But when we lose our passion, when we let the negativity overcome us, aren’t we ultimately pushing that potential happiness away?