I've been doing all of the activities I love but have been receiving no psychological reward. My happy chemicals are on vacation. The usual climbing, riding, P90X, painting, comedy skits, and other dopamine producing activities have become tasks that I wade through. I still do them because if I'm not going to care about anything and feel empty, I'd rather do it 40 feet up in the air, or on a bike with the wind blowing in my face, or creating things to make people laugh.
I switched up my paintings to include much brighter subject matter (a depressed person wanting to paint brighter subject matter, I have no reasonable explanation for this). I started to paint scenes of the riders from the UCI World Championships that came through Richmond last September (best week ever by the way). I did feel excitement when I finally started moving in this direction as cycling is what I want to dedicate my craft to. But as I work on these paintings and make progress with my skills that are quite remarkable for someone who's been painting for only 3 years (more about impressing myself that others), I just don't really care. It's not that I don't feel anything, it's just that I don't give a shit and kind of abandon emotions as they come up. It's the same feeling I get when someone takes 5 painstaking minutes out of my life to explain a dream they had- At first I like the wackiness of it all and then it turns into me wishing they would hurry up and finish.
I've lost almost all of my social restraint. I'm not trying to be mean but my sense of humor is getting caught up in my speech and it ends up coming across as pretty nasty. "Hey, what do you think of my shirt?" Me: "I think you should have cut holes in a trash bag and slammed that over your annoying head."
Most of what I do on autopilot is to make sure the depression doesn't get worse, even if none of it makes me feel better.
No sadness, I don't care enough right now to be sad about anything.