Seasonal Affective Disorder
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This month has been unseasonably warm. Usually by mid-December we’ve had a few snowfalls. Frost coats the car windshields each morning and temperatures drop below freezing until the end of March. But we’ve been enjoying lovely September weather this Christmas. I didn’t have much experience with the cold growing up. Living in the Texas coastal
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The cold lingers in the air And in my mind, Cloudy as the gray sky. The weight of winter smog Settles in my chest, Causing me to cough in my bed As I long for sleep That cannot cure this fatigue.
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The weekend before last was our first taste of “Fools Spring”. The temperature finally peaked above 40 degrees, so shed my heavy coat and gloves for a Saturday on the town with my sister and nephew. The sun was shinning, birds were singing, the roads were free from snow and slush- but it was all
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Both the temperature and my energy are low. January is always the hardest month of the year for me. My Seasonal Affective Disorder is in full swing, but I can’t distract myself with thoughts of the holidays. The days are short, the weather miserable, and my motivation is non-existant. Everything from work to household chores
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Every winter I seclude myself in my hobbit hole of a home. I surround myself with hot beverage, warm blankets, and fuzzy sweaters so I can pretend that the cold doesn’t exist. The short days drag into never-ending weeks of self-isolation and hibernation. All the hours pass by in a gray smog of monotony, fatigue,
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If you are anything like me, around this time of your you hit a rut. Part of it is the end of the holiday season and the return to the working grind. Another part of it is the cold, dreary weather. A final part is my constant companion, depression. Most people, especially those who live
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Christmas has come and gone in an almost uneventful way. The tree was lite, the presents wrapped, and stockings hung- but the joy just wasn’t there. The dull browns, the dark days, the cold weather- something about it saps all my energy. It brings out all the sadness, the despair, and hopelessness. It’s as if
Bringing Mae Flowers 