This is the time of year that my descent into Hell begins. Bitterly cold, grey, dark days. Even though I know intellectually that the Solstice has passed and the days are, in fact, getting longer, I feel trapped in the darkness. The endless pull of overcast skies. The bone-chilling deep freeze that keeps me in paralyzing layers. The life-giving sunshine makes rare appearances and the rare life to my mental state. I’m horrified at the realization that we are just at the beginning of this particular phase, and relief won’t begin to appear for six to eight weeks. An extremely long, six to eight weeks.
I envy my sister who has moved to Costa Rica and endures sunshine everyday, with the option of jumping in her pool if it gets to be a tad too warm.
I have a sun lamp. I take vitamin D. I’m on anti-depressants and anti-psychotics. And still, these three months until Spring are literally and figuratively, the darkest of my year. How I long for the warmth and the sun. The light feeling of the day, moving into evening.
Am I the only one? Is this mine alone to bear?
E. E. Wildwood 