Depression or ...?

A couple weeks ago I had my annual physical checkup. While he was tapping my knees or telling me "Turn your head and cough" my doctor kept up a running stream of questions ... low-key but consistent. Is it still true that I don't smoke? How much do I drink? What about sexual activity?

At one point he asked me about work. Yeah, sure, I guess it's going OK. It's not like it's going to save the world, but it's going OK. A little later he asked the same question in another way, and I began to wonder where this was going. Most of his questions had an obvious point: when he asked if I've started a new romantic relationship, he explained candidly that he was really asking about unprotected sex. Oh, ... and also about "function": viz., can I still get it up? But what's this about work?

After a while he explained that too. He was trying to determine if I need an increase in the medication I take for my depression. The clues for him were that all I seemed pretty unenthusiastic about work, and I seemed pretty unenthusiastic about finding a new relationship. So what am I enthusiastic about? Anything? And if not, is that for psychiatric reasons?

I told him I didn't think I needed a change in my prescription, so he let it go. But later I started to think about it. It's true that lately I have been sluggish and unenthusiastic about a lot of things. (Work especially!) Is it depression? What else might it be?

The answer came to me quickly: maybe I am mourning. My father died two months ago. Our relationship had its ups and downs, but still ... he was my father. And after his memorial I found myself thinking a lot, Wow, look at all the people who turned out. I wonder if I even know that many people? And how many of them will notice I'm gone when it's my turn? I don't think this is an unusually morbid way to think. Or, to put it another way, I think it's actually pretty normal to think about death when somebody dies. Also to slow down and detach a little bit from the main flow of the world's work.

I don't remember whether I told my doctor that my dad had died. But I think that's part of my recent listlessness.

There's at least one other component. Last week I had an assignment at work that comes around about once a year. For three days I forgot to take lunch and was staying late ... not because of the deadline (though there was a deadline) but because I was having fun. And whatever else I was, I certainly wasn't listless at Jack and Jill's party. So I think the other component in my recent listlessness is boredom. I've been doing the same damned thing every week at work and every week at home and it's just getting harder and harder to give a shit. But give me a change of pace, and I come right back to life

Speaking of which, I've invited Jack and Jill over for dinner tonight. It'll be almost the first time I've cooked for someone else in that kitchen except for the boys -- only a couple of meals for Debbie and I think one for Suzie. I'm looking forward to it. And meanwhile, I should log off and go set the table ....