You Chose to Live Here
I am just now getting over my bout with S.A.D (seasonal affective disorder) which is weird because it's still pretty damn cold out, but just not as bleak. I can see the sun, just not feel it.
I feel like I have this disease (which is what I call it since there's no cure and it sounds more serious) every year at this time, but it was really bad this year. There were numerous nights where I got home from the station, changed into sweats, laid the long ways across my big chair and didn't move till the news started and I went to bed. I understand that this is normal for wintertime in Chicago, but it still depresses me. It depresses me because I'm a person that likes to be busy all the time. I have a nice date book and I open it and fill it in every day. I get sad when I don't see a lot of ink on each page. Don't get me wrong, I like to watch TV and veg with my laptop on my lap burning my ovaries, but that's appointment television, so I have it planned out. This particular bout of S.A.D ran its course from the end of January through the beginning of March; the sky was gray and so was I.
This is how I dealt with my disease: I avoided the outdoors as much as possible (ordered in food, didn't visit family as much, didn't go to the gym - well there's no parking lot so that would include being outside), wore the same 4 turtleneck sweaters over and over, which Terry pointed out really emphasized my broad shoulders – thanks Terry, and got a severe case of dry skin and hair. BUT tomorrow is the first official day of spring, so I have to be optimistic. I have to think that with more sun and heat my disease will go into remission. When my friend who lives in Scottsdale called me a few weeks ago and listened to me complain about the weather she bluntly said "Well you chose to live there!" I wanted to reach through the phone and slap her, but I didn't because I knew that spring was around the corner and my S.A.D would be gone and I would be glad.