It's that time of year again. The weather has been too cold to go outdoors for any period of time. Even driving in the car requires a mad dash to start the car, and let it warm up while waiting in the house.
After about a month of this I start getting really depressed. Even the sun doesn't make me feel better. When I lived in California, seeing the sun meant it was going to be a nice day to be outside. Here, in the Midwest, seeing the sun in January likely means the temps are in single digits. Almost more depressing than cloudy days.
I haven't been able to ride my horses for over a month because of the ice on the ground, and the dangerous low temps. Even though this means I have more time inside, I'm tired of being inside and suddenly hate everything about my house: the wall colors, furniture, how clean it is (or isn't).
I have yet to come up with a solution to this dilemma. I've tried reading, meditating, and even shopping. The shopping just makes me feel worse, because I also decide that I'm too poor to afford to even go grocery shopping. I'll dig through the canned goods to be sure I'm not wasting anything. I avoid going in public, and start panicking because I'm sure I won't have enough money to pay my mortgage.
I'm delusional, and I know this. My state of mind is completely ridiculous, and I know this. But I'm at a complete loss as to how to snap out of it. Since I've been through this for the last 17 years, I know it's coming and I've tried to stave it off by planning a vacation to sunnier weather, and this doesn't even work. Anti-depressants? Ha, I'm already there.
The best thing to come out of the "winter blues" is that I start to purge. Room by room, I dig through everything we own and purge unused items. The Goodwill stores probably hate to see me coming, because I inundate them with stuff. Stuff is all it is, and many items are brand new, never opened. So far I've listed 45+ books on half.com and listed 1000s of glass beads on eBay. The rest gets donated. I always hope this will help my mood and until I completely burn out, it does.
Writing helps, as I get to dive into a fantasy world where the sun is shining, and I'm in complete control. But at a certain point, I don't even want to write, because I'm a fraud, I don't know how to write, and whatever made me think I could.
Exercise would be great, if I could muster enough give a shit to get out of bed, or my chair, or whatever.
In the end, I know I'll snap out of it, and I'll be back to me again soon. And while I'm in this mood, I take an extensive inventory of me, making me a more aware individual on the other side.
Have you ever experienced the winter blues?