Something died within me: nothing to look forward to

[Trigger warnings: death, loss, grief; depression.]

I spend a lot of time in my head: rumination, dreams, memories. The present is bleak, the future a black hole with nothing to look forward to. 

Five years ago, with the COVID pandemic, something broke for me. Something broke me — the long illness, the complete isolation, the terrible loneliness. It triggered a depression from which I pulled myself out, at least partially, also by moving to Colorado. 

The first couple years here in Colorado were wonderful: not easy — actually pretty hard — but wonderful, so full of exploration, so full of promises, of hope — life opening up again and giving me something to look forward to after the pandemic. 

But then, two summers ago, something broke for me again, this time something personal, not a worldwide pandemic involving everyone. Within three weeks in the summer of 2023, I lost my father and a soul-mate/lover. And then, as the grief sank in over the course of the following months or year, I lost hope: I lost the hope of ever being seen, known as myself, by my father; of ever really having a connection with my family of origin; of ever really having a family/partner(s) of my own (as I realized I’m aro-ace); and of ever really having the career I was hoping for (as my prospects in academic became null). 

I have lost hope. 

This is what is making me feel all of a sudden so “old”: it’s not the difference between being 41 or 43, it’s the loss of hope. All of a sudden it’s gone, like a switch was flipped. 

I used to enjoy the company of people who are much younger than myself, many of my friends here in the U.S. have been a decade or so younger, partly because of the exuberant energy I used to have. But now I don’t enjoy being around younger people as much because I cannot relate to them anymore: I feel so “old”, even when I often have more energy and/or am more fit than they are. The point is, they still have hope, they still have careers, dreams, relationships, goals to work towards, to look forward to, while I feel I don’t anymore.  

I used to love to teach and I was a beloved educator and public speaker, walking into rooms full of enthusiasm that would engage almost any audience. But that’s also something I cannot do anymore: I can feel myself walk into meetings or lectures with a dullness or bitterness that I have to fight back, struggle to suppress and hide. 

The losses in summer of 2023 of those two people I loved so dearly killed something within me, thus changing me, for the worse, forever.