The only reason I kept hunting, instead of giving up, when the hardest time of my life came was because those who cared strongly encouraged me not to give up the things I love to do. So, I kept going. Not much, or often but every once in a while. There was no fun in it, only a muscle memory. At the time, there was no fun in anything, though. Only by God's grace and my trust in Jesus is the reason I've seen light on the other side of that dark place.
Now, some years later, I still don't hunt like I once did but I look forward to it when I can. The blackpowder bug is starting to come back and the thought of making a bow or two sits in the back of my mind, as well. There is life but, as mentioned above, dealing with the causes of this trial is more important than time in the woods.