It is with a certain amount of dread that I watch the days get shorter, the leaves fall, the cold air seep in.
I know that logically I should face the winter with a positive attitude and hope for the best, but I know better. It’s so hard though. The bitterly cold mornings, the insanely short days where the sun stays firmly entrenched in the southern sky, the day after day after day of solid grey cloud cover.
I have special lamps, whether it is the science or the suggestion, they do help. I keep them on and I sit by them. They make crazy blue-white light.
David and I talked a bit about it. He went through it last winter, but I had other stuff going on at the same time, other things with which to explain my irrational anger or crying jags. He was understanding, willing to be proactive about it. It was good.
I figure that I’ll travel more, flying from place to place, outrunning the demons. I can afford it more now, and I have the vacation time. I’ll put the dogs in the car and go away. I’ll put the dogs and the boy in the car and we’ll go away. I’ll book a flight at the last minute and stand at the ocean and listen.
I’ll probably also be more insular, not talk to as much, not visit as much. My phone was fucked this week and it was nice.
Some day I will move to a warmer place.