SAD

As you may know, I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. People don't really tend to take this very seriously, I've found. After all, doesn't everyone get a bit down in winter? Well, yes, probably in our country most people do, but what I get is actual SAD, real dperession, which I struggle with most winters.

And this winter, it's set in very early due to the dull weather and being unable to get out of the house very little the last few weeks due to illness in our house. Winston Churchill wrote about his depression as being a 'black dog', but I find mine to be more of dull grey fog which settles over me and muffles everything. I find I lose my creativity and inspiration which also has a knock-on effect of its own on my mood. I feel exhausted all the time but when I go to bed I can't sleep for ages. Then in the morning I can't wake up and feel really sluggish. That's if I'm lucky enough to get a full night's sleep at the moment. I find that getting enough sleep and in a regular pattern can really help the SAD, but my son seems determined to deprive me of this right now, thus making everything much worse.

Another reason for the early onset this year is that my son has finally been cutting down on the breastfeeding - I'm losing out on all that lovely, mood-enhancing oxytocin from those long early morning feeds we used to have. And my body doesn't seem very good at producing mood-enhancing chemicals on its own.

I find myself craving all the things which I know from previous experience actually makes the SAD worse - chocolate, sugary and stodgy foods, staying in bed in the morning for hours given half a chance, giving up trying to achieve anything. I know that regular bed time and getting up time, enough sleep, good food, chocolate only in moderation actually help, but I can't help but think 'oh who cares? I can't be bothered'. It all seems such an effort.

Every day I drag myself out of bed and force myself to do all the things I should be doing - cooking, shopping, studying, allotment - all the jobs to keep the house running well but my heart just isn't in it right now. It just all feels dull and grey and thankless and without end or satisfaction. I can't manage to write.

I should probably dig out my sunshine lamp, which I haven't need the last few years due to breastfeeding hormones and getting out in the daylight during the day a lot more - but I can't be bothered. I'm falling into fiction again to escape the nothingness of my own brain, but I'm not sure this is quite the healthiest thing either - living vicariously on other people's vividness and then feeling my own life to be colourless in comparison. I tried to summon up a bit of enthusiasm for my birthday, coming up soon, but making actual arrangements for doing anything remotely enjoyable just seems so difficult that it seems easier to let it go by, even though I would actually like to mark it somehow.

I'm hoping for a sunny day soon to lift this feeling before it sets in for the whole winter. I don't want to feel like this any more. I'm sick of making the effort to carry on as usual. If anyone can send me some sunshiney thoughts, I'd appreciate it. I'm struggling.