How I hate the Beast!

Every year, at this time, I fall into a slough of despond. In truth I feel it starts much earlier, with the changing of the season, but it is skilfully disguised by me throwing myself into Christmas ridiculousness. There’s a reason my family get so many presents - apart, of course, from the fact that I love them dearly, I am also distracting myself with the purchase of Christmas pants!

So many presents - ridiculous!

By the end of January, however, seasonal excitement is forgotten and I am truly downhearted.

If I’m honest, it seems worse since I retired. Not because it is, but because I have more time to notice my feelings. I was sufficiently professional to carry on despite my feelings and, provided there were no major crises, turned up and did my job every day. Now I have much more time to navel gaze and over analyse how I am feeling, and how I am feeling is not great.

Experience has taught me that it will pass, and the coming of the Spring will also see the return of some equilibrium in my mood. 

Roll on Spring!

Strangely that doesn’t help for now…and neither does self awareness. I am fully aware that I am thoroughly difficult to live with, snarling, growling and, mostly, sighing. I know that if I got off my, not inconsiderable, backside and spent some time in the garden, baking or going for a walk I would feel so much better but, well, I can’t be bothered! 

Just go for a walk...

I can also acknowledge that I have nothing whatsoever to be miserable about - I have a caring husband, wonderful children, no financial worries and am reasonably fit and healthy. 

Nothing to be down about

But that’s the thing about depression - it doesn’t just choose to inflict itself upon people who have something to be depressed about. It’s a little trick it has to make sufferers feel guilty about feeling that way. It is a cunning beast - there’s a reason it’s been described as a ‘black dog’ - and sometimes it does feel like a living entity.

Honest!

I refuse to be scared of the beast, however, and writing about my feelings is one way of facing it down until normal service is resumed in the Spring! Now excuse me while I go and stare into space, and sigh…