I was really doing good, all thanks to me being on the upswing of my “issues”. I’ve been getting out of the house for a few hours at least two days a week, taking my medication and really keeping busy…
Until this past week when a cold front hit.
Aaaanndd…..SLUMP.
There is nothing worse for a person with depression than bad weather.
I know there are people who suffer from depression and not seasonal depression as well but I’ve never met them.
I had been dealing with the cold by going out in quick spurts to feed the birds and make sure the stray cat (Mr. Darcy) had a warm place to sleep. Going outdoors is my self-therapy I have discovered over the past few months (though I’m sure I’ve also sort of known that). Every time I felt overwhelmed I would go for a walk with the dog or just in the woods around the house.
I even put out some seeds and nuts and berries for the other animals that have seemed to congregate around the house. I’m sure this is completely against what you’re supposed to do but I figure if it’s already out for the birds then the possum that sleeps under the porch should be fine. I’m not sure if it’s a boy or a girl.
I just know that she’s (because I just have that feeling it’s a her ya’ know) gotten so used to seeing me come out that the last time I walked out and caught her eating Mr. Darcy’s cat food (while he watched from a cozy spot on the chair just above the food bowl), I’m pretty sure she rolled her eyes at me.
Like, “Oh you again.”
I told her that she could’ve at least waited until I was gone before pigging out on Meow Mix, to which she begrudging shuffled back under the porch.
I like her. She makes me happy.
Which isn’t easy to do in the winter when the days aren’t just cold but dark and often rainy. To me if it’s going to be this cold it should just fucking snow so there’s at least something to do.
Then I remember a few years ago when it snowed for almost a month. Not blizzard like in any way but it was definitely the longest I can remember seeing snow built up on the sides of the roads. It would start to melt and then snow again. A normal winter for a place like Maine or somewhere but in Kentucky it was kind of a nightmare.
Southerners do really dumb stuff in the snow. Like shouting in restaurants about how “this is proof of no such thing as that global warmin’ stuff”, and trying to climb the snow mountains in the Walmart parking lots in poorly maintained trucks. It’s entertaining for short amounts of time I admit but it becomes annoying almost getting sideswiped by a jacked up Ford sliding across the grocery parking lot every time you need milk.
A weekend snow or maybe, at most, a week and that’s all anyone around here needs. If you need more than that move farther from the equator.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy being lazy. Of course I do. Let’s be really honest here, I’m pretty sure almost everyone does. But we live in a world that makes constant productivity feel necessary and admitting to being unproductive feels a lot like a criminal act.
It’s also terrifying to have a really good upswing thrown off by something as simple as the weather, especially as a person overcoming a pretty intensely depressive episode. It’s scary because it feels like you’re almost out of the hole you buried yourself in but suddenly you start slipping.
I’m going to start the remodel on the laundry room next week so fingers crossed this gets me back on course.
A Hermitess 