Every year – as the lights start to twinkle and music turns to bells and jingles, – my thoughts nearly always begin to head in a darker direction.
The rational side of my brain tells me that I have a lot to be thankful for; I have a job I enjoy, I have my health, a family I love and who loves me in return.
And yet, and yet.
My body and brain begins to be seized by a malaise that defies rational thought. It tells me I am – contrarily – alone, unloved and destined for failure and ruin.
On the face of it, I appear unperturbed. In the office I continue as always – laughing and joking, happy to be the butt of jokes and giving as good as I get.
To friends I bump into around town, on my commute or social media, I exchange pleasantries and give the ‘same old, same old’ sort of replies.
I know most people would probably happily listen if I gave the time, but that’s yet another consequence of the illness – an assumption that you’re not worth bothering with or talking to.
After all, who wants to listen to a torrent of ‘poor me, poor me’?
Given time, I know I’ll come out the other side. Not stronger. Not even necessarily weaker. Possibly a little dimmed.
And always resigned to the knowledge that the same thing will happen again.
Roll on spring with those daffodils and gambolling lambs ?
I can totally empathise – I feel the same every winter! And yet it always takes me by surprise when I realise it’s crept up on me. I wish I could share something that helps, I’ve tried everything people recommend, but for me it’s just muddling through and trying to keep in mind that it will get better in the spring. And trying not to self-medicate by hitting the booze too much, which just creates other problems :-/
Thank you Susan. It’s a bugger, isn’t it? I need to find something to do that will lift my mood, but easier said than done, of course ?