Bitchy McBitcherson's Blog

Tag: SAD

  • I Feel Sad

  • I’m Living

    Today in the car my daughter and I were discussing an assignment she needs to do, a series of photos based around poem or book, with a theme of “family”.

    I told her, “Oh, you could do that famous children’s book.”

    “I don’t know which book you mean,” she replied.

    I couldn’t respond because I had burst into tears.

    Okay… so THAT was stable.

    I pulled myself together and attempted to continue the conversation and immediately burst into tears again.

    WTF?  Back off emotional breakdown, I don’t have time for this.

    The book I was referring to is Love You Forever, by Robert Munsh.  Clearly the recent events with my father are shoving my parents’ mortality down my throat until I am choking on it.

    Things continue to be emotionally and mentally difficult in my life for a variety of reasons, and the health of my father is just one of those.  The recent heat wave has also been brutal on me, of course.  On the good news front, my frequency and severity of migraines is getting better under control.  Working hard on remembering and appreciating the bits that are going well.

    Deep breaths.

    But all day and into the night, a verse keeps echoing in my mind.

    “I’ll love you forever,
    I’ll like you for always,
    as long as I’m living
    my daddy you’ll be.”

  • Desert Mirage

    I am currently in Las Vegas, because I am an idiot, or a masochist, or both.  There is just no good reason for a person with Summer SAD to “vacation” in Las Vegas in June, but that’s what I did.

    My husband had to come here for business, and because he is always extremely busy with his start-up, I decided to come on out with him. He’d be too busy working to spend time with me, but the drive to Vegas and back would give me more time to hang out and talk to him than I get in the average week, so it seemed well worth it.

    Until it was 106 fucking degrees in the fucking shade and the fucking hotel room won’t cool the fuck off.

    I used to spend parts of my summers in Vegas. My grandparents lived here when I was a child. Mornings would start early to get some good play time in before it got too hot.  My grandfather would walk me to the local playground so I could play for a little while before the metal slide got literally too hot to use safely. Then we might walk over to 7 Eleven for a Slurpee. If I didn’t get a Slurpee, there would probably be coins left on the ledge outside the house for me to get something from an ice cream truck later in the day. They sold the house when I was 8 years old and left Vegas for a cheaper town in the middle of nowhere Nevada to retire. I drove by the house yesterday. My grandmother would be horrified to see the condition that the current owners have it in. The huge sagebrush field that I explored is now completely littered with 2 story suburban cookie cutter tract homes. Overall, it felt surreal to be there. I had planned to call my father while parked out front, but decided I didn’t really like it there, so I meandered on my way.

    I stopped at a store to look for a new purse (my current one is falling apart) but had no luck with that either. Upon exit of the store into the overbearing heat, I headed back to the car when I sign across the parking lot caught my eye.

    Rita’s Ice Custard Happiness

    Ooh, ice custard. Do I want that?
    Of course you want that. It’s happiness.
    Well, yeah, but should I have it?
    What “should”? It’s happiness. Go get some happiness.
    It probably isn’t any good. It’s probably too expensive.
    It’s Happiness, it says so right in the name, plus The Beatles say Rita is lovely.
    I don’t think it is the same Rita.
    Whatever, come on, people are always accusing you of being too negative. Go get some happiness. Be a person that deserves happiness.
    Fuck you.
    HAPPINESS
    Serious, fuck you. Alright, fine, I’ll go get some fucking happiness.

    So I drag my heat exhausted ass across the hot black top toward Rita’s Ice Custard Happiness. So. Hot. I have to walk around the building when I get there, the sign was on the back of this little section of strip mall that is floating out on the street side of the parking lot. I pass the Subway that is next door, and get to the front of Rita’s Ice Custard Happiness and am greeted by a “Coming Soon” sign.

  • Ain’t No Cure for the Summertime Blues

    It is that time of the year yet again. It has been for a while now, but as I get further into the season I find it less and less bearable.

    I hate summer. I hate it with as much passion as I can stir, which is actually very little because summer makes me so distressed and depressed that I cannot focus enough to have a passionate hate for it.

    I hate sunlight. I hate heat. I do not like to set foot outside during it. If I could stay inside all the time, I would, and it would only help a little. It isn’t just the sun and the heat, it is all encompassing. I am better off if I put off any outings until night, but only marginally. I am less likely to have a total meltdown, but overall my ability to cope with ANYTHING is so diminished during the summer.

    I get that I am not normal. There are so many people for whom this is their favorite time of the year. Others, who may not like the heat, might think they understand, but they don’t. Heat can be alleviated, but the overwhelming feeling of being trapped, of having nothing to look forward to, of just being stuck in misery until fall, that, they don’t have. A cold drink, and a nice breeze and they are enjoying their summer activities. The meaning of the word enjoy is almost beyond my grasp for the season.

    I try. I try to stay cooler. I try to schedule things in small doses so I can keep on having minimal functionality and don’t have a total collapse, which just upsets me further. I like to get things done. That may be strongly worded. I HATE to not get things done. It really bothers me when I feel my productivity slipping for whatever reason. Truthfully, even vacationing is difficult for me because I am not “getting anything done.” If I go to long without getting enough done, it depresses me. The summer season depresses me. The only thing that alleviates some of the worst symptoms of the summer depression is scaling back my activities, and yet, accomplishing less depresses me. Is anybody able to see the problem here?

    My antisocial nature increases, my ability to handle any sort of annoyance decreases. I could cry over drank milk, because it means I need to go to the grocery store to get more, and the grocery store is located outside of my house. It is expensive too. Our electric bills are astronomical because what small grip I have on something resembling normalcy depends on the AC working and working HARD. It cannot be just taking the edge off the heat outside, it needs to be cold, to battle against the looming oppressive heat and light that chip away at my will to breathe. I hate to go to other people’s homes because they will not keep it cool enough. If they come to my home they need a sweater. Not that there is a lot of inviting or accepting invitations. I am not in the mood for interaction and I have no social graces.

    The problem has increased with age, and of course our move to SoCal amplified it and lengthened it. Summer here lasts much longer, and when I am the midst of it, I can see no end.

    I am living in an endless summer.
    If you can call it living.

    Here are a couple of articles.
    a few years old – Seasonal Depression Can Accompany Summer Sun
    a recent one – Too much sunshine can bring on the blues

    I don’t have the lack of appetite aspect, but my eating patterns, choices, cravings and ability to be satisfied by or really enjoy food is very different during the summer and they also bother me a lot. Any condition that messes with my enjoyment of food does a lot of damage to my overall mood.

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