It's officially Winter now, and the Winter solstice is gone days ago. The days can only get longer. Thank God. After my bout with seasonal affective disorder a few years back, I always dread November and December. It's the worst.
Seasonal affective disorder is a funny thing, because I always think that I'll do okay, but it's very much hit or miss whether the lack of sunlight will make me feel miserable, or whether I'll be fine.
A few years back, I had it bad. I was clinically depressed, and all of the sorrows and tortured issues of my life came flooding back to me, and I wanted to die. I just wanted everything to be over. I wanted to lose all the pain and heartache and self-pity. And one domino kept knocking down another. A girl rejected me. A friend abandoned me. A test was nearly too hard for me. And things just got worse and worse and worse, till I very sternly questioned what it was that made me get out of bed and bother to be alive.
And looking back on it now, it's strange to think that I was that depressed, because the things that bothered me back then, nothing's really changed now. Just a little perspective I guess. If I don't post before then, Merry Christmas.