Slow Days
There's times where nothing feels worth doing. Where the whole world is painted in darkness. Where my field of view is narrowed. Where I do everything with a sense of unease, like there's a project I want to get to, something, anything, but everything that comes to mind is repulsive.
Some say the opposite of depression is curiosity. Everything is interesting to me. You could talk to me about any subject, and I would listen with full attention. But in times like these, my emotions don't budge. I'll think "hey! let's look into this!" and my body will not move. My body will not move. I'm sure you've had days like these before. It's tough, isn't it? To want something harmless, easily within reach. But you won't move.
The betrayal.
I've carried this trait for a long time, with many things. It often comes as a result of being productive. I'll work on something for a few days, sometimes weeks, and the desire to work on it fades. I keep going; after all, motivation follows action. But shortly after the opposite happens: I still want this thing to become a reality, and sometimes feel little bursts of motivation, but working on it will drain the energy out of me like phone battery powering a fifteen-hundred watt heater. I end up in the aforementioned state.
If I can add one thing for you, the reader: If you want to feel wonder, just touch something. Take an object -- anything, really -- and brush your fingers against it. Focus on the sensation. Close your eyes. Try it with the back of your fingers or the back of your hand, too, and try it against your own skin (or someone else's.) It gives a similar feeling to observing nature, and it's a great way to shift your attention and mood.