Depressed?

true story (read only, no voice

I haven’t had the desire to write lately. I have been temporarily depressed. Oh, there are life’s regular disappointments and struggles, but then there’s this looming dangerous threat that is hanging over me by the state of the world.

Looking back at the 20th Century with the rise of Communism, the Nazi uprising, endless wars, the pervasive secular society, and the shredding of the Unites States Constitution, I feel like a new world order is approaching. The 21st Century is proving to be equal if not worse than the horrors of the last century. The difference is the enemy is in our own backyards or on our city streets.

No wonder I am depressed. Some say, ignore the news, politicians have always been corrupt, and all governments do bad things. I get that, but at one time my government’s actions were covert and I lived in a false sense of security. With the advent of the internet and alternative, citizen journalism my secure feeling vanished. I became more informed by engaging in critical thinking and prayer (both are detested by many in power). I feel my freedom is diminishing each day as deceit permeates the landscape.

This makes me angry. Yet I repress the anger, and repressed anger is depression. Why can’t I do things I enjoy when I am depressed? I think it is because the opposite of depression isn’t happiness, it’s expression. If I can find a way to express myself in writing, speaking, and in any way that expresses my desire to understand, consume, and consider my world around me, I will not have lived in vain.

Otherwise, I could become less informed, abandon my own responsibility, blame others and God. Then I can let the decline take place as I concentrate on baking a pie.