In my therapy work, I have noticed how varied are the periods of life that different people focus on. I try to follow rather than lead in this respect. Some people talk mostly about the present. Others have times of their pasts that they repeatedly return to. Latency. Or high school. Time in a particular city. I am not sure which parts of my past I return to in thought or narrative. I am pretty sure that high school gets rarely mentioned, for example.
Tonight, though, I am remembering a period of two years or so when I was aware that I was basically bored. All the time. And I was an adult in middle age, not a teenager. It was not painful and distressing, the way depression can be. I know depression and that was not it. Nothing much really interested me but I was not unhappy about it. I was not exactly content but neither was I actively unhappy. I was aware of what was happening and rather than trying to resist or overcome the mood, I decided to go with it as long as it lasted. Pretty well everything was equally ok with me because I was rather indifferent to it. I am remembering those years tonight because I kind of miss them.
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