IN WHICH BEAR TURNS MELANCHOLY

In the Beginning . . .

"Involutional melancholia or involutional depression is a traditional name for a psychiatric disorder affecting mainly elderly or late middle-aged people, usually accompanied with paranoia. It is classically defined as 'depression of gradual onset occurring during the involutional years (40-55 in women and 50-65 in men), with symptoms of marked anxiety, agitation, restlessness, somatic concerns, hypochondriasis, occasional somatic or nihilistic delusions, insomnia, anorexia, and weight loss.'"

Thus, Wikipedia.

Sounds like the Bear. Except for the "somatic concerns, hypochondriasis, occasional somatic or nihilistic delusions,  … anorexia, and weight loss," which, in the Bears case, should read "weight gain." But "weight gain" is natural for Bears in the summer, depressed or otherwise.  

Enough of that, already. Sheesh.

Something Old, Something New?

The good news was that, over the summer, I have been able to get a firm grip on the "Black Dog" which has been dogging my footsteps for so long. I tossed that dog out of the house!

But now, something else, something more vague, shadowy, perhaps. Fortunately, it is not debilitating, like what I have experienced in the past. But it does cause me to ponder — and to ask: where is this coming from, and why now? 

It feels more like a kind of "existential depression," which is different from "involutional melancholia." It is a kind of depression that "cannot be directly traced to a cause. We are quietly haunted by a vague sense or dark mood. Thru the hollow depths of our being sounds a low, moaning tone, which breaks into consciousness when our daily preoccupations fall away." In other words, it just is. It's a sense that comes from looking at the world — the violence, the poverty, and so much more.

Truth is, I am always bothered by troubling things. I was a sensitive child, who has grown into a sensitive adult, in a world that does not value a kind of existential sensitivity. A misfit. Attuned to injustice and pain. Desperately wanting to see other things — to see things differently, to see them becoming better. Whether war in Syria, or poverty on the streets of North America, or, . . . or.

Sigh!

In Other News

There is a new poem on my Urban Forest poetry blog. A bit romantic, a touch sensual. It is a response to another poem — I've explained that.  

I'd like to spend more time writing poetry. First, however, I need to clean out my den, to get ready for winter. That will only take me until the end of October. As in October, 2015. 

And so to Conclude

Time for a little bit of music: "Come to me my melancholy Teddy." Well, perhaps not this time.

Blessings and Bear hugs, folks.