I'm SAD. Not the morose, unhappy emotion that many people feel but SAD, as in Seasonal Affective Disorder.
I have suffered from this problem for as long as I can remember, but it was only 10-12 years ago that I was able to put a name on the feelings, the very real feelings I endure for about six weeks out of every year.
It's more than winter doldrums. It's more than just a case of melancholia, because even when I don't feel especially depressed, I have absolutely no energy to complete the most simple of everyday tasks.
If I didn't have a job, chances are I wouldn't move out of my pajamas or off the sofa, which is exactly what happened this weekend.
Except for speaking with Tom on the phone and telling my neighbor his headlights were left on, I never spoke to a person all weekend, and I stayed in my pajamas Saturday and Sunday. I forced myself to make simple meals...because even going to the trouble of throwing a Lean Cuisine into the oven, is just that, trouble.
Doctors theorize it's all about lighting or the improper balance of seratonin and melatonin in the brain.
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