At least I managed to take this picture before I started crying.
Last night I started crying right before bed. Logically, I understand that my body is reacting to the lack of sunlight. I always get weepy and miserable around this time. I’ve never been formally diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder, so I can’t definitely say that’s it, but I know that I start feeling worse the darker it gets. I’m suddenly reminded of how, as a child, I used to sit by the Christmas tree for such long periods of time, just looking at all the lights and ornaments. I always loved Christmas as a kid.
These days, I hardly have Christmas. There’s no one to share it with. My aunt’s family opens their presents before I get there, if I choose to spend Christmas day there. I don’t like being around all the children ranging from a few months to 4 years anyway. I don’t get to drive down to NC, because I don’t usually have enough time off (if any). It doesn’t make much sense to me to decorate a tree just for myself. Christmas is a time that’s supposed to be shared with people. I’m not religious, so the winter holiday season has always meant “family” and “warm smells” and “sleepy doggies curling up under the blanket with me on the couch” to me. And my kitty does his best (he really does, last week he woke me up by creeping under my blanket with me and kneading my left boob and purring as loud as he could) and I do love him and his purring. But it isn’t enough.
I feel so unhappy. And it’s all chemical crap, not anything real. I really hate my brain on days like this.
MirrorMe 