Winter suuuucks. It’s dark and cold and full of holiday expectations and pressure to Be Happy and Celebrate with Family and Make Memoreez™ and stuff. November, December, and January are my least fave months and I am so glad they’re almost over. I feel like a zombie snail oozing toward the finish line (and exactly as gross as that sounds).
I’m tired. So tired. The kind of tired where you’re like, “Do I have mono or am I just really out of shape and antisocial? Is everyone depressed and experiencing SAD and staying home alone watching Netflix?” I think so, but then you see people jogging outside in shorts and it’s like, WTF?!
I told my therapist I was lonely.
“Are you getting out there and meeting people?” she asked.
“Yeah! I mean…I go to the grocery store,” I said. (That was not what she meant.)
I’m trying to remind myself of the beloved quote on my fridge: “Be patient with yourself. Nothing in nature blooms all year.” I’m definitely feeling as sad and moss-covered and spindly as the dead plants in my backyard. I know from a few long-ago yoga classes that this is the “yin” time of year, that winter is when we all turn inward and rest. It’s not yet spring. It’s OK to be low-energy and hibernate…right?
I’m impatient as always. Judging myself for being a polar bear. Trying to go on walks all bundled up. Then coming home and falling into a deep nap. Tea and curling up with my cat are so much more appealing than meeting strangers. I don’t have the energy for extroversion.
In the meantime, I’ll try to be kind and patient with myself. Nothing in nature blooms all year.