Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is most often associated with people who are buried six feet under a pile of snow, haven’t seen the sun in months and/or spend more time in their Hunter rainboots than in their pajamas.
Well here it is 75 and sunny again today. And it is affecting me.
So many of you ushered in the first days of Fall this weekend with a dip in temperatures, a cozy sweater, maybe even some fallen leaves crackling under your heels.
We ushered it in with a trip to the beach and another BBQ.
I know, woe is me. I have to listen to “Jingle Bells” with my sunroof open. My kids don’t even know what a snowsuit is, much less how to get into it. It is, on average, 73 and sunny…every single day of my life.
But the truth is, perfect weather isn’t always perfect for everyone. I grew up with the seasons and some of my fondest memories of my childhood involve piles of leaves waiting to be jumped into, hot cocoa thawing my frozen lips, the sound of rain outside my window and of course, the first snowfall. When we left Montreal in our early 20s, I was beyond excited to leave all the slush, grey skies and cold weather layers behind…but I didn’t realize I would leave such an important part of myself behind with it all.
I can certainly appreciate a beautiful day like the rest of you. I watched the ocean reflect the beaming sun like it was painted with diamonds yesterday. I saw the people running by in their light layers, beaming at each other over the good fortune we all have to live in paradise. I understand why we pay exorbitant amounts of money to live in a place where you can plan any outdoor event, virtually any day of the year, without a second thought. I appreciate all that. I am thankful for it. I guess I just don’t know if it’s the only existence I want to know – or to have my kids know.
I realized a few years back that seasonal affective disorder was affecting me, just not in the ways you would expect. It’s too damn sunny. It’s too damn perfect. It’s 73 degrees again. A sweater is silly. A bowl of soup seems absurd. And there is very little chance that any rain will be beating down on a cozy Sunday afternoon any time soon.
Sometimes perfect things can have an imperfect effect on a person.
And as the seasons slowly start to change, that kind of makes me sad.
*image above via here*
PS – this post about therapy from my friend Laura at Hollywood Housewife is a great read for any of you contemplating it.