The most awful thing was that I realized that my days had been composed of little moments of anticipated pleasure: that first cup of coffee in the very early morning, the inner thoughts that made me chuckle, a browse through a book store, the satisfaction of a job or chore completed…Now these moments failed to hold the crest of pleasure—everything was flat and gray. Life seemed locked away from me and I was filled with an unspeakable dread.
The newsletter authors go on to say, "When the mind is laid barren of thought, the imagination cannot make the necessary leap into the future, and the individual experiences himself as out of time and isolated from the ongoing currents of life. He cannot reconnect."
My mind hasn't leapt into the future in years. It's struggling simply to complete the tasks for today. That's all I see when I think about the year: 365 days of to-do lists.