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In Sickness and In Health
Earlier this week I went out into our near-deserted city for a doctor's appointment. Like many things in my life and part of my disposition, I have held to the same healing services for many years now. There are functional advantages to such stability; disruptions are exciting, they can be liberating, but they can also be dangerous. In most cases one wants the path of stability; on occasion, the path of disruption can be is necessary. One may suggest that here in Australia we've given up the relative stability of our social behavior to "disrupt" COVID-19, with the desired effect. I have, in many ways, been neglectful of seeking the art of the healers, and it is something that I am determined to be more attentive to in the future. There was a sublime beauty to the city that day, an emotional clash in the weather of coolness and warmth, all generating a perfect day, one that could even make the heart sing.
The song may end, but there's a malady that lingers on. Yesterday, I received the blood test results and for what is the first time in my life they are not good. Certainly, I have short-term illnesses in the past, minor infections and the like, but I have been blessed throughout my life with not just good, but even excellent health. But not now, and this is a systemic problem; I am outside the acceptable range for both liver enzymes and low-density lipoproteins, the latter which can lead to cardiovascular disease. How aesthetically appropriate that an evergreen romantic such as myself would be at risk of a disease of the heart! Nothing that a change in diet, exercise, and even alcohol consumption (as moderate as it is) cannot change, and indeed, must change. A necessary disruption to some deeply ingrained stability in my life.
But it never rains, instead, it pours. I have had cause for much elation and stimulation in my life this year, and when I look over my achievements and activities I can really have a sense of a quiet pride (a deeper love). But even a quiet pride comes before a fall, and no good deed goes unpunished. An old black dog has come to visit, one whom I have not seen for a multitude of years, and it does not bark, but rather howls its keening like a banshee. If there is any advantage to the visitation of this canine apparition, it is not an indiscriminate guard which howls at all and sundry, but rather a trained pointer which emanates its growls at very specific sources of deep dissatisfaction. I get the sense that it doesn't have any plans to leave me soon, and I know what that means: "In his autumn before the winter comes man's last mad surge of youth."
The song may end, but there's a malady that lingers on. Yesterday, I received the blood test results and for what is the first time in my life they are not good. Certainly, I have short-term illnesses in the past, minor infections and the like, but I have been blessed throughout my life with not just good, but even excellent health. But not now, and this is a systemic problem; I am outside the acceptable range for both liver enzymes and low-density lipoproteins, the latter which can lead to cardiovascular disease. How aesthetically appropriate that an evergreen romantic such as myself would be at risk of a disease of the heart! Nothing that a change in diet, exercise, and even alcohol consumption (as moderate as it is) cannot change, and indeed, must change. A necessary disruption to some deeply ingrained stability in my life.
But it never rains, instead, it pours. I have had cause for much elation and stimulation in my life this year, and when I look over my achievements and activities I can really have a sense of a quiet pride (a deeper love). But even a quiet pride comes before a fall, and no good deed goes unpunished. An old black dog has come to visit, one whom I have not seen for a multitude of years, and it does not bark, but rather howls its keening like a banshee. If there is any advantage to the visitation of this canine apparition, it is not an indiscriminate guard which howls at all and sundry, but rather a trained pointer which emanates its growls at very specific sources of deep dissatisfaction. I get the sense that it doesn't have any plans to leave me soon, and I know what that means: "In his autumn before the winter comes man's last mad surge of youth."
Re: There is a difference between weariness and depression.
Similar can be said about if it's a situational reaction. Is it because your spouse died? Or because the store was out of your favorite flavor of soda?
Depression in the clinic sense is driven from within, not the sort of unhappiness that 95% of people would feel in the same situation.
Re: There is a difference between weariness and depression.
Re: There is a difference between weariness and depression.
Don’t nod too vigorously, could cause concussion, and thereby further mental issues. 😀
Re: There is a difference between weariness and depression.
Re: There is a difference between weariness and depression.
Thank you