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Winter of discontent

on December 4, 2013

I find myself sitting half way down the stairs, texting my sister.  I just can’t be arsed to go all the way downstairs.  And it seems a bit pointless anyway. Everything seems pointless.  And meaningless. And miserable.  Just too much effort.  I tell my sister that I am miserable.  And that everything is too much effort.  That my children are being horrible and naughty, and that my whole life feels significantly more effort than it’s worth, and yet I am obliged to continue on with it.

It’s December.  I have Seasonal Affective Disorder.  I am constantly tired.  I can’t find the motivation to do anything.  Everything is too much effort.  It all seems a bit pointless.  This is unfortunate because December is also a very busy month.  You know, Christmas.  My family coming for dinner on Christmas Day.  And Big Girl’s birthday.  And Big Girl’s birthday party.  And possibly a trip to visit a friend over New Year’s Eve.  I am behaving as if I really believe all these things will organise themselves if I just watch enough West Wing.

Minimising the effects of SAD is fairly easy.  I spend half an hour a day sitting in front of a light box and just feel miserable, rather than living with unrelenting despair.  Unfortunately, one of the symptoms of SAD is that it is incredibly hard to get out of bed at all, never mind half an hour earlier.

It’s ok though.  Soon it will be Christmas, and I think this could be the Christmas my children will most enjoy, and the Christmas I will most enjoy them enjoying, because they will be two and four – old enough to understand it but young enough to still enjoy the magic.  And I know that even if it *feels* like everything is pointless and meaningless, it will be worth doing all the things I know I have to do to make that magic happen for them.

And then there’s just January to survive.  January is pretty much like December, except without the pretty lights and nice food.  I survive January by holding out for that moment in March when the clocks go forward and I weep with joy at all that lovely daylight.

SAD is pretty crappy.  I have friends who have cancer, and whose children have cancer, and there are people out there who can’t afford to feed their families, and so it feels pretty lame to be crying because ‘I feel sad because it’s a bit too dark’.  But it’s debilitating in a low-level way.  The good thing is this: I used to feel as if this would never end, as if each winter were Narnia-esque, that I had always been miserable and would always be miserable.  But I know now that everything passes, that everything can be survived.  I may not be very cheerful right now, but quite soon I will be again.


One response to “Winter of discontent

  1. I thoroughly relate to this and respect you. It takes a lot to acknowledge those with cancer to put things in perspective. Take good care of yourself.

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