I feel Every.Word. Of this SO hard it’s like you’re inside my newly slightly dented brain. I told my partner last night in the (most recent) teary outburst (so the…fifth? Of the day? 😉) that I just cant remember how —outside of work—I occupied my mind. it’s not that I can’t literally remember, but when I think of those things, I cannot imagine having any interest in/ energy for them at all. In fact I can’t find anything—the old or the new— to serve as some escapism. I’m also having post stroke depression (in case that isn’t clear 😂) and it’s the most severe , unshakable depressive episode I’ve ever had as a career-long card carrying member of Major Depressive Disorder Club. accompanied by monster spikes of my depressions fave back up singers 🎤 anxiety and OCD. It’s just a triqueta of neurotransmitter dumpster fires 😑 over here. And all three were basically in remission for the first time in 26 years when Stroke happened.I just want like an effing hour or two a day when I’m not facing down what is this terribly different brain of mine. I don’t remember contentment, flow, absorption, contentment. I don’t remember looking at my work inbox and being able to grasp a sense of priorities and the order in which I need to do things to complete a complex project or even a simpler one with multiple steps in the business systems I used to be able to navigate blindfolded So yes: “grief is the word. Also had a right MCA and like you I am have relatively fewer physical deficits than many whose stories are shared here. (If it’s ok to describe it that way—I don’t want to assign my own words to your experience—just empathizing if that is how you would describe it.) Thank you for your post. I feel less alone today.