Summertime sadness

 

“What a beautiful day! You can’t feel bad in this weather.”

 

“At least it’s sunny outside, that must make you feel better.”

 

“You’ll feel better if you get out in the sunshine.”

 

Fact: some people can suffer from a illness called SAD (seasonal affective disorder) where the lack of sunshine in the winter months causes them to feel down or flat and out of sorts. When the summer and long sunny days return, this illness reverses and the person gets back to “normal”.

Fact: some people can suffer from major depression where a lack of serotonin causes severe symptoms including inability to enjoy life, lack of motivation, guilt, sadness and suicidal thoughts. Sunshine does not increase serotonin and has no effect on depression.

It’s odd to me how many people have suggested that sunshine will, has, should, could or might make me feel better. I agree that being in the sun makes you feel better when you have a cold, a broken leg, are having a bad day, or are at the beach. But not true for depression, FYI. At least not for me.

I actually find sunshine makes me feel worse.

Before I got sick, I loved the sun. I looked forward to sunny days. I checked the weather every day to see if it would be a good day to sit outside for lunch.

In theory I still do love sunny days. But sitting in the sun doesn’t make my head a better, easier place to be.

Sitting in the sun while the inside of my head looks and feels like a dusty, musty, fusty, dark, dingy, crumbly, decaying, spider-webby room filled with sharp things and broken glass and knives and tears and hurt and pain only points out to me the contrast.

Why would that make me feel better? How can that make me feel better?

Incongruous: adjective, meaning not in harmony or keeping with the surroundings or other aspects of something.

 

That’s a perfect description of me sitting outside in the sun.

I am not in harmony with the surroundings. I am not in keeping with the environment. I don’t fit, I don’t match, I’m out of place.

Being out there in the sun just makes me feel out of place. Glorious sun streaming down on my face and inside I’m full of darkness and hardness and awfulness and horridness.

It’s brutal.

So actually, I feel much more at home on a cold, rainy, foggy, cloudy, overcast, snowy, icy, windy, awful day.

I do go out on the fine sunny days and try to enjoy life. I try. I take my camera, try to get some shots to record that I’m out in the sun. That I’m out enjoying life. And sometimes I do enjoy it for a while. But it’s all a distraction. Then you go back home and there it is again, the black dog, waiting.

Waiting.

The black dog does not like sunshine, or enjoying life, or going out on fine days. He likes the musty, dusty, fusty room and the dark, sharp, hurtful things.

If possible he will go with me as I head out on a sunny day. He will go with me so that he can sit next to me and over-shadow me and ruin the sunny day.

He’s such a spoil-sport!

People say you can learn to live with the black dog. I’ve always been a dog lover, but I don’t want to learn to live with the black dog. I want the black dog to die so that I can shed off all the nasty and awful effects that he has brought into my life.

Any have a method of killing the black dog that works?? I’d love to hear it!

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