If you tell me that you’ve used a website to diagnose yourself, I’ll tell you how insane you are. No punches. You might be sick with something else, but Dr. Erika will definitely write you a script for Bat Shit Crazy pills. I know this because I’m so smart…
So smart that I’ve diagnosed myself. No website necessary.
I don’t suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. I suffer from the transition to every season. Not the entire season, it’s only the transition period. February is really bad because who fucking likes February into Spring? Who? No one. So I openly wallow in my depression. People understand this depression and they cut me slack. But I also get it when Spring flips to Summer and when Summer flips to Fall. And Fall to Winter.
The “Summer to Fall” flip feels extra icky. You’re supposed to love Summer so there’s guilt in transition. Guilt makes everything worse. And I crave Fall. I can wear hoodies every single day. I don’t have to worry about my leg stubble. I enjoy college football. I can drink coffee at 3 p.m. because it’s chilly. And SCHOOL IS IN SESSION. I should love this transition. But I still suffer.
Why do I suffer when my favorite season is five sniffs away from pumpkin spice*? Here’s five reasons I know I am suffering:
- School isn’t in, but it’s so close that Target’s Back-to-School section is empty. It mocks me and I’m angry. I see the teachers’ cars in the parking lot. Ring the bell already, Folks! Mama needs her house back. Mama needs her schedule. We all do. But really, it’s just me. I need it.
- My razor (fine, Mark’s) is dull and I don’t feel like replacing it for a few more leg strokes.
- I only want to wear pants with elastic. I bemoan the fact that I need to get dressed and apply make-up when the night before I bitched and was depressed about the fact that I never need to shower and apply make-up (yes, even though I’m not a huge make-up person). My complicated side is in full effect…
- I’m so tired of being uninterested in everything that brings me joy. The worst part about having this sickness is that it robs me of my creativity. I don’t want to look at my camera. It taunts me. I can’t stand my sewing machine. Write? Why would I? Everything has been said already.
- I look at at my knitting needles for happiness. I start buying patterns and worse yet… I buy yarn for projects. I’ve tossed enough 1/2130th of a project each Fall (after I’ve accepted the transition sadness) to realize this is a problem.
But I’m coming out of it. I can feel it. Proof?
- I took one picture this past weekend while we camped. I asked them to wait as I dug out my big camera. But that one picture was a big deal to me. I controlled the shutter.
- I organized my photos and got them ready to be printed. And I will add insert them into a yearly album.
- I cleaned out my cabinets. It’s like Seasonal nesting. Each season a closet gets attacked. This year it was the kitchen. My oldest trash worthy item? Lawry’s from 2010. I hate Lawry’s so this tiny bottle mocked me. But I showed it. Tossed him in the garbage surround by raw chicken skin. In four days, it will be covered in maggots. Fuck you, Lawry’s.
- I start rereading books that reminds me Art is important. This time it’s Art and Fear. If you haven’t read it, shame on you. Pick it up.
- I start cooking most nights for the family. I need to fill my freezer even though I have plenty of time to cook fresh meals every night. I got an Instant Pot and I want to make-out with it behind the bleachers. My stove has been shoved aside for a hotter model.
- I get giddy around the blank notebooks. I smell sharpened pencils. I want to snuggle with the unviolated pink erasers. I plan on hugging the boys’ new teachers. I’m fantasizing about school lunch recipes that I’ll never make. I’m beyond ready for Back-to-School.
- I’m writing this post. A week ago I would have rather laid on my couch for hours rather than look at my laptop. I’ve almost asked my Facebook readers for weeks, “What could I write about?” But then I knew I would have to write. I didn’t want to write. So I kept my mouth shut. Yesterday I wrote something.
So do I have SAD? Nope. I have Seasonal Transition Disorder. I have STD.
Yes, it’s very unfortunate. But I’m a strong woman, Folks.
Folks, I will survive this STD. I do every single year. My STD doesn’t define me. **
* I do hate pumpkin spice. They put that fake scent in everything. There has to be pumpkin spice dental dams at this point. And that makes me want to vomit.
** I might not be thinking straight…