Taking stock as my rich life devalues

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I did an OK job with this life. 

 

No complaints, at least until depression, loneliness, and anxiety took over at age 67.

 

I never anticipated life would hurt so much.  Or that country western cliches like "heavy heart" or "grey skies" or "me and my dog" would be true.  I'm heartsick.  My heart is broken.  I am a hollow man now.

 

One thing about depression, it's always there.  It's the ultimate default neural setting.  (I suppose death is even more ultimate?)

 

When I smile or laugh, which I still do, it's punching through a vitreous layer to put the emotion out into the world.

 

Most of the laughter and smiling never makes it through.  Some does, and I'm surprised.  Is that me laughing?  As if it's a blue shirt I wanted to put on in the morning…

 

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