Am I Blue …

A friend at work told me I looked tired yesterday. I’d noticed it before she mentioned it having seen the dark shadows under my eyes earlier that morning. I’ve been working more over the last few weeks filling in for someone who’s been out due to illness, but even with the added hours, my time at work requires a fraction of the energy required by some jobs I’ve had in the past.

I took a part-time job (one really I enjoy) to pay off an ugly amount of credit card debt I incurred when I was stuck in Atlanta last year and this week, I sent the last payment off to the two cards I owed.

You’d think I’d be celebrating, but I’ve been unable to rouse much enthusiasm. I also received an unexpected gift this week from a friend I met through work and it pleases me more than I can say to see it sitting on my desk now and to know the kind thought and motivation that prompted it.

John and I are both healthy and my family and friends in Atlanta are fine, but even with all the good, I still feel exhausted and blue.

My creativity seems to have disappeared and responding to emails from friends feels as if it’s more than I can do now. I think about calling family in Atlanta to connect, but even that feels like a struggle. Plus folks back home have their own worries and don’t need to hear me grumbling about some vague feeling of sadness that I can’t explain.

It’s not so easy to hide it from John and as I discovered yesterday morning, there’s no reason to keep it from him. After an exchange over breakfast that didn’t go well, I went back to his study and said that I may look happy and okay, but I’m not. I said I was feeling fragile, weepy, and sad and that I was going to need a little more gentleness than normal. He listened with understanding and is secure enough not to feel like he has to fix everything for me. Sometimes being heard is enough.

After running through a mental checklist searching for reasons and countering each negative with the bountiful list of positives in my life, I remembered what I seem to forget each year until I find myself deep in it again.

March and April are always tough months for me and with no good reason that I can find. You’d think after years of feeling what I’ve sometimes called ‘ The Easter Effect ‘ because of the time of year when it occurs, I’d be better prepared. But I forget until it’s here again sneaking up on me like it’s the first time making days that should be happy feel flat and difficult to get through.

I wrote about this feeling in a post titled ‘ Off Kilter ‘ in 2010 and after rereading the post and the comments it received, I am reminded that like Cindy La Ferle, I should be back to normal after Easter arrives.

April 8th … not too long to wait.

I wanted to share a couple of photos of a lone Grape Hyacinth that stayed with me this week during my gloominess. I found it intriguing that it appeared to be growing out of the rock.

I snapped the first photo a few days before going back for the next two because I wanted to show how it had found a tiny indentation in the long stone that acts barrier along the grassy edge of the village green. The most interesting thing about this for me was discovering how it was growing in the barest minimum of dirt.

Looking down into what was hardly more than a chipped place in the stone, I was impressed by the tenaciousness of this tiny plant and its ability to take root and bloom in a space where there was so little to sustain it.

*************

I’m sure I’ll be alright in a few weeks, but there’s no way I’m giving up sugar next year for Lent.

12 thoughts on “Am I Blue …

  1. Sending you a BIG hug Elizabeth from Copenhagen. My husband and I have the same cloud over our heads and we are also looking forward to it lifting and the sunshine of life returning. I’ve been scrapping together a post once a week lately which is so much less then my usual prolific 4 or 5. How can I inspire others when I have a challenge inspiring myself? Take care and roll on Easter.

  2. Don’t be blue, woo-woo?? You ain’t alone! Just keep that smile and humour going. Lots of us depend on it more than you know.

  3. Light levels may be helping fuel some of the lethargy and sadness. When I lived in Alaska I just dragged in the winter until I finally bought a seasonal affective disorder light box from a reputable dealer.
    It helps during Seattle winters, too.
    That may not be the only reason, but it sure couldn’t hurt to give light therapy a try. Twenty minutes a day really helped me.
    I hope you’re feeling better soon. And yeah, don’t ditch the sugar just yet.

  4. This happens to me too. I used to rail against it and work myself into a real funk. Then, one year, I realized just because I feel blue, doesn’t mean I have to be a bitch about it. This small shift in perspective made everything different. Instead of trying to jolly myself out of it, or berating myself because of it. I simply accept this time in my life as part of my yearly rhythm. It is just my quiet time, when I read, reflect and give thanks that I no longer beat myself up about it. That alone makes it better and much more bearable. We are so often our own worst enemies, we need to work more on being our own best friends.

  5. Sending you yellow sunny thoughts from Massachusetts. Hoping that your blues go away soon and bring sunshine to your heart. I am finding that being outside at least once a day is really helping with the blues this year. I don’t know if it’s the fresh air or the sunshine but somehow it’s working. Best to you.

  6. Sent a longer one but lost it! You have a ‘Comma’ – happy in Eden but cool if at Lanhydrock. Add my ‘mental hugs’ to the rest, and keep smiling.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s