I often stop doing something that I enjoyed after I have an incident. Such as, there was a book of Norwegian jokes that my husband gave me for Christmas a few years ago. I read one out loud each night as he was going to bed. I had been doing that for almost two months, and there was still a lot I hadn't read yet. The day that I hurt myself and landed in jail, I stopped reading jokes and never picked up the book again. I'm not sure where it even is now. I'm not sure if stopping was some kind of punishment, or maybe symbolic that some part of me died.

Being cowardly doesn't seem to fit, and there is nothing wrong with losing interest in something or changing your interests and moving on to something else. We can't keep up with everything that we ever liked to do all the time. But you might want to think about what it means to you and why, and whether you have replaced the thing you stopped doing with anything else, or whether you feel empty about it or are satisfied with your current activities.