For whatever reason, the rhythms of my life have determined that I get really depressed during the month of February. If I could completely abolish the 28-29 days of February completely from the calendar I would. No offense to those born in this dark month, I just have never "felt" February.
Perhaps part of the reason for my negativity about it is the fact that the beginning of February, 1987 started with a real bang for me. I had the original biopsy on 2/3/1987, and got the cancer diagnosis on 2/5/1987. So I have an upcoming anniversary of sorts. I am grateful I survived, and on some days, I am even grateful I had cancer (I know that sounds strange). I am not yet grateful for the scars, or the long-term affects of having been treated for cancer. That stuff just plain stinks. But in some really tangible ways, cancer gave me many gifts. One of these gifts is the strength to face down my depressive episodes.
I have started to feel myself sinking into the February depression. It started yesterday. I know the feeling well, I know it is only temporary, and I know I will be OK at the other end. I just hate feeling like this. I hate that I cry for no reason, and that my already short temper is even shorter right now. I hate that when K had a real setback with the homework that I lost my patience with her yesterday. I hate that I have to pretend everything is okay when I am out and about in the world. I know the sun will shine on my psyche again, but right now I curse the darkness.