Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Last day

This weekend it happened. That one day of the year that I hate and hope I don't notice. The day the sunlight changes. It always happens after Aug. 15. So I spend my days in Aug. busy. I keep myself as busy as I can hoping that one day I will look up and it will be Sept. or Oct. and I won't have noticed the light change.

It never works.

This past Saturday was hot and muggy and a bit cloudy and then it rained. Sunday was cloudy all day so it appeared dark. Then Monday I looked out the window at school and dang it- I noticed the angle of the light from the sun was a bit lower, a bit darker. I hate that because that means the depression is coming. This is how it starts, Noticeing the light change and fell a little switch inside turn and then a darkness seems to creep up and start to envelpe me and I am caught and everything seems worse than it really is. And I am tired. So, so tired. So tired that I just want to hibernate. I wonder if this is the same thing that triggers that instinct in animals. Too bad I can't sleep off all the weight the way the animals do.

It lasts, gripping me in its deep darkness until that magical day in December that the light starts to shift back. Dec. 21. The day that is the shortests in the year. I watch the shadows each day after this as they last longer and longer and it takes longer for the sun to set. And then it is April, we change the clocks forward and the switch switches again. The darkness lets go of it's death grip and I can breath again.

**** My depression is mostly situational and if my life circumstances were different the ever present depression would leave. However, the winter time SAD (seasonal affictive disorder) would still be there. There is just not enough light in Utah during the winter. I just have to make sure that I am in the sunshine as much a possible.


~paulette said...

i remember starting to feel that way when i lived in utah. my husband and i recently moved back to arizona however, and there's a ton of sunshine! apparently, there's a vital nutrician that we need from the sunshine, and when we live in places that make us bundle-up and stay in doors, we end up difficiant in it...

i remember sitting spralled out on my roof-top in utah's winters, desperate to feel the warmth on my skin again.

Anna Maria Junus said...

Try living in Alberta. I tell myself, at least I'm not in the Yukon.