My #1 problem since the heart attacks is the opposite of depression… I simply stopped caring about a lot of things. Nothing really seems important anymore once you wake up in a hospital and are told “Yeah, your heart stopped for 8 seconds…”
But they don’t have a category for that.
“Oh, you’re depressed…”
“No, I’m not, I find it actually kind of freeing not thinking anything is really important anymore…”
A lack of caring is one of the main signs of depression. Depression isn’t so much the sads but a lack of caring/motivation regarding life. That’s why you see depressed people often have sinks of dishes or piles of laundry. It starts with one “fuck it” and gets worse from there. Of course as the pile gets larger then it takes even more motivation to clean and in the meantime every time it grows you’re frustrated with yourself and mentally beat yourself up. You beat yourself up enough it makes you not care about your life, you stop caring if drivers see you when you cross the street, you daydream about being in an accident on the way to work/shool. Etc until you get help/better or suicide (likely fail) and then get help/better.
This is different from not caring about the little annoyances in life.
I should clarify, I haven’t stopped caring in general, just about things that I would have cared about previously.
It’s actually incredibly liberating, but it’s driving my wife crazy. She’ll absolutely explode over something and my reaction is “So? Is it really THAT important? No? Let it go then.”
My #1 problem since the heart attacks is the opposite of depression… I simply stopped caring about a lot of things. Nothing really seems important anymore once you wake up in a hospital and are told “Yeah, your heart stopped for 8 seconds…”
But they don’t have a category for that.
“Oh, you’re depressed…”
“No, I’m not, I find it actually kind of freeing not thinking anything is really important anymore…”
A lack of caring is one of the main signs of depression. Depression isn’t so much the sads but a lack of caring/motivation regarding life. That’s why you see depressed people often have sinks of dishes or piles of laundry. It starts with one “fuck it” and gets worse from there. Of course as the pile gets larger then it takes even more motivation to clean and in the meantime every time it grows you’re frustrated with yourself and mentally beat yourself up. You beat yourself up enough it makes you not care about your life, you stop caring if drivers see you when you cross the street, you daydream about being in an accident on the way to work/shool. Etc until you get help/better or suicide (likely fail) and then get help/better.
This is different from not caring about the little annoyances in life.
This sounds very similar to the quote in The Hurt Locker
Paraphrasing horribly: “I either diffuse the bomb or it’s not my problem anymore.”
It’s a very interesting take on life.
My uncle who recently had a mild stroke actually has stopped giving fucks.
That’s a form of depression.
I should clarify, I haven’t stopped caring in general, just about things that I would have cared about previously.
It’s actually incredibly liberating, but it’s driving my wife crazy. She’ll absolutely explode over something and my reaction is “So? Is it really THAT important? No? Let it go then.”