C.S. Lewis says it best

After I wrote the last post I opened up C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed and started reading where I had left off:

"It's not true that I'm always thinking of H. Work and conversation make that impossible. But the times when I'm not are perhaps my worst. For then, though I have forgotten the reason, there is spread over everything a vague sense of wrongness, of something amiss. Like in those dreams where nothing terrible occurs - nothing that would sound even remarkable it you told it at breakfast-time - but the atmosphere, the taste, of the whole thing is deadly. So with this. I see the rowan berries reddening and don't know for a moment why they, of all things, should be depressing. I hear a clock strike and some quality it always had before has gone out of the sound. What's wrong with the world to make it so flat, shabby, worn-out looking? Then I remember."

Yes. That is exactly what it feels like. When the energy fades, this is what it feels like - a flat, shabby, worn-out-looking world. Thank you, C.S. Lewis, for giving words to my experience.