I used to be an ambitious person. I was innately motivated to make the world a better place and I enjoyed that motivation. I wanted to accomplish big things and sometimes I got close – anyway I showed some real potential.
The thing about clinical depression and ambition is that depression is such an enormous obstacle that it overshadows all of the other challenges that you might choose to take on. It’s that ass hole at a dinner party who presides over the whole group with inane, infuriating monologues, refusing to be interrupted.
It’s not that I no longer hope to overcome great challenges – it’s just that the great challenge is depression, and it’s taking everything I have.
The truth is I really miss it. I miss the sense of purpose. I miss the drive, the striving for something bigger than myself. I miss believing that I could contribute.
On good days I think – well, all that stuff I accomplished before my diagnosis I accomplished as an undiagnosed major depressive – WHO KNOWS what I can accomplish once I’m recovered.
Most days I just hope to recover.