I’m no stranger to the rain. There have been some significant periods of depression in my life. Most of them have been within the past eight to nine years. The first came after JBelle was born. PPD is really a most heinous thing. Unfortunately for us, the diagnosis came so late that by then it was just full on depression. Some counseling and some medication did wonders.
There was another significant depression for me in 2003. Then after GMan was born and I got through that round of PPD (with the aid of medication), I thought I was home free. But then bouts of it kept creeping back into my life. It finally hit me, recently, that my struggles were occurring in the winter time. I have friends and acquaintances who are profoundly affected by S.A.D. – Seasonal Affective Disorder and I remember studying it in college. However, I never thought I would be affected by it.
I’ve always enjoyed the winter season. It’s not so much that I like being cold but I like the things that go with it: hot chocolate, warm sweaters and blankets, chili, the excuse to stay in and be cozy, Christmas, peppermint hot chocolate, New Year’s, my birthday, have I mentioned hot chocolate? How could I ever be depressed by winter?
Yet it seems that that is just what has happened.
This past winter was especially hard. There were several reasons for it and even though I knew the train of thought was useless, I couldn’t seem to help myself. Over and over again, “I have no reason to feel this way. I’m blessed beyond measure. What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t feel this way. There are people who have real reasons to feel sad and depressed. Reasons to cry. Reasons to wish they could stay in bed all day long and hide from the world.”
The one thing I do know about depression is that it’s not about how things should be. Brain chemistry and the injustices of life don’t always have anything to do with each other. Those thoughts really do nothing to bolster me, if anything, it just makes it all worse.
The past several weeks have been dark ones. My days were filled with a dense fog of sadness, anger and confusion. Everything was affected by it, most especially my sleep. Even though every morning I longed to stay in bed, I would deliberately stay up entirely too late at night not wanting to go to bed because that would just bring on the next fog filled day that much faster. Such a vicious cycle.
And I avoided as much socialness as I could. That’s another vicious cycle. And I didn’t write much here because I just didn’t have anything that I truly wanted to say.
to be continued…