The wording "a LOSS of passion..." is why it took me so long to accept that I have depression—as far back as I can remember, I've never had any passion to "lose." I've trudged out of bed, been antisocial, and hated myself every day for the last 10+ years, but I thought, "this is all I've ever known, so this is just the way I am. It's not depression because I'm not any sadder than I was yesterday." It also didn't help that every non-professional (including my mom) I've reached out to on the matter brushed me off saying "everyone feels sad sometimes, you're not depressed." I've only recently started accepting it and letting my coping mechanisms die.