“Winter Depression”

I’ve been suffering through some really fierce depression lately. My best guess is it’s just the seasonal thing that happens, the change to winter, less sun, etc. It also probably has something to do with the holidays. There’s no time of year that reminds us single people we’re without a partner than the holidays. But it’s not just the pain of not having a partner, it’s at having so few others in my life in general.

Earlier this year, when I was going out with The Actress, I made a split from my 12-step meetings that had been a long time coming. I almost never go to meetings any more. Once in a blue moon maybe. Abut when I was going to meetings… I got some interaction with other people. It was hard and painful, the memories of friendships gone bad, and of course the rambling insanity of so many people in the groups. But it got me around other people at least. It’s too bad the trade-off became too much. What I did gain was outweighed by having to deal with the crap.

Thinking about that has got me thinking about something else, too. I remember my guy friends from there saying how I cared too much. I heard that more than once. I’ve written about this before, and I feel like many times. But what the hell is wrong with caring so much?! And as a slight addendum here, how am I supposed to *stop* doing that? Brings up all kinds of stuff about being weak, that I’m a weakling or a pussy or whatever for being sensitive and all that crap from being a kid.

Anyway, so as the winter has set in with the shorter days and the darkness, I’m really noticing how few other people I have in my life. It’s been pretty hard, painful. And there’s been a mindfulness there, too, which is interesting. It’s almost like I can see the pain happening, as if it were happening to someone else. I see it, feel it, and at the same time am thinking about it on a different level just recognizing how sharp it is, how painful it is.

The emotions are there--loneliness, thinking no one will ever love, me, all that—but there’s also a presence of mind that it will pass, that it isn’t as bad as the emotions say they are. It’s tough to describe. And being clinical about it does nothing to convey the deep sharp pain of feeling it. Having that detached voice in my head is helpful, sure, but what I’d much rather have is friends in my life and a family or at least a partner.

A couple things to throw in before I forget. I started talking with the therapist about sex stuff. Not sure how much I’ll include of that here. Old issues that I’ve worked with other therapists on that I’ve never gotten anywhere with. And now I forget what the other thing was that I was going to jot down. Dammit. Oh well. Hopefully it will come back to me. Maybe it’s just the thought/pain of having so few friends, and those I do have inevitably become not friends. It’s enough to make me wonder from time to time if I have borderline personality disorder. I think not, though. I think (as I pretty much always have) that I’m just different. Sensitive, smart, passionate, caring, all that stuff that guys aren’t supposed to be. Yep, still me over here caring too much. Oh well, what are you gonna do right? It’s not like I can decide tomorrow that I’m going to be someone I’m not.

UPDATE: ah-ha, I remembered the other thing. My weight is back up. It’s got me *really* upset, and I’m sure it doesn’t help at all with my depression. Feels like no matter what I do, I’m stuck at this higher weight. It’s got me thinking more and more about picking smoking back up, though considering how hard I worked to quite I am almost certain I won’t do that. Besides, what if I start smoking again and then DON’T lose the weight? What then? Then I’ll be fat AND a smoker. Ugh. Anyway, all attempts at humor aside, this is really upsetting to me.