Well, it’s only six days into 2019, and thus begins another winter tradition: I’m coming down with my first cold of the season.
Although I have less annoyance than one might expect for that news. I’d even call myself somewhat relieved.
I haven’t talked about it in this newest (brief) round of posting, but I’ve been pretty open here on JALC about how I suffer from clinical depression. That part is (alas) a sure and stable truth of my life. What is less sure to me is whether there’s an extra dose of SAD in my brain chemistry as well.
I kind of think that I’ve had some extra cycles of low energy and depressive behavior during the last couple winters? But I can also point to outside stressors that could have created that sense of wintertime blues.
So, when I needed to take a nap after work on Friday evening, and then again yesterday, I began to ask myself whether I was once again succumbing to “the black dog.”
And then this morning, when I woke up with a stuffy nose and began sneezing, I was able to put my recent tiredness in the context of this cold settling into my system.
Let me tell you this: however annoying it is to have a stuffy nose and all that, it seems so much the better option than if I were having another depressive episode. Hence the somewhat counter-intuitive level of happiness I have to have come down sick.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m grateful that it’s just a cold. But there’s no need for this cold to hang around any longer than is absolutely unavoidable.
And with that, off for another early bedtime.