I think much of my depression and disorientation came from giving up my research focus and rhythm. Research and writing give focus and order to the day and I had always had them. I gave up a great piece of myself — more than that, I renounced most of myself — and there was no good reason for it.
I really do not like only working when there is some sort of deadline, which is the mode I fell into when I gave up focus and rhythm.
I really like only teaching two real classes, as I am now. It makes all the difference. I feel as though I am still repeating old errors, on the one hand. On the other it seems as though that era could be ending. With it ends the era of dreaming of other things, so this juncture is both happy and sad.
Also today, there is someone I envy. Envy is not an emotion I normally have. But I am envious of one who did not self-destruct. And was willing to step on people. And is now happy and admired. If I had psychoanalysis I would look at this, because it is a point of pain.