After a whole two hours of sleep last night following a whole five hours of internal meeting, I found out the root of my depression. I won’t go into detail on this point, as I’ve belaboured it a million times before, but it’s simply a grief issue masquerading as chronic depression. I should have known that when the depression started in May and felt so gentle and settled in. Depression isn’t typically described as gentle, and I don’t mean it’s a good kind of gentle. It’s just familiar and it no longer leads to any sort of suicidal feelings.
I’ve heard it suggested many times that there’s a danger in making grief part of your identity. On the other hand, I think it *does* become part of who you are. The danger lies in permanently making it the centre of your life.