I don't know why I hate February. I mean, I ought to love it, it's the birth month of the best man in the world (hi zibblsnrt -- his birthday's Sunday, bug him for me), but at the same time it is just an utter slog to attempt the month. In fact, this year seems worse than most years (usually it's around Valentine's that everything crashes to hell and I hate the month, but I'm already hating it now.) I'm not sure if this early trigger has to do with the fact that a synopsis for my final project is due Friday and I'm nowhere near coherent enough to get ideas on paper, I mean, if I had an idea...
Which that panic leads into the crazy idea that there's really nobody at SIMS who cares either way about me, and I start pondering the stupid mistake I made ever coming back here, to Berkeley, in the first place. This doesn't excite me, it doesn't really interest me, and I just...ugh. When your favourite class is a lower division language class, that says something. But yeah, there's that whole 'not belonging' thing that eats the utter hell out of me every time something needs to be done with SIMS, and it's just frustrating. Of course, I'm too much of a loner for my own good at times too.
Anyway, February's the shortest month on the calendar (although it's longer than usual this year, damn leap years), but it's one of the longer months psychologically. And maybe this is partly a remnant of being in California, but if you know where to look you can see spring breaking through. And *this* is one of the most absolutely depressing facts I can think of. It's funny, you'd think signs of spring would be good for a depressive, but I'm not your typical depressive. My favourite time of the year is that sudden infusion of darkness just before Christmas. Yes, I'm weird. Anyway, the spring thing is a reminder that the whole frickin' rest of the world is emerging from the frozen doldrums of winter, why can't I?
I do wonder if there's some similarity of ambient light levels in October and in February that would account for this long downswing that marks both months, but maybe that's just too obviously the answer. Maybe it's some commonality of weather, of season, or maybe just some odd quirk of brain chemistry that goes wrong on a set schedule that I've not figured out yet, but it's there.
The biggest symptom though is a complete and utter feeling of disconnect. I just can't feel a connection to anybody at all, not even zibblsnrt, which is bothersome. It attaches into my anxiety and already bleh feelings and makes me feel often as if nobody would care if I'm here or if I was gone. I mean, I struggle with this at the best of times, but when I can't feel the connections to people I know obviously care, how am I to have the faith that people who I never had a strong connection with at first care at all?
It's a seasonal affliction and this too shall pass, but part of me really would rather just burrow under the covers and hide there until the goddamn month is over. If I only could, I surely would.
Which means...well, if I'm less talkative than usual, the occassional friendly poke would be welcome. I know it's absolutely stupid to ask people to look out for me. I should be looking out for myself, and I shouldn't have to ask, shouldn't have to prostrate myself, admit constantly that I am weak and that I should be stronger...this shouldn't be the way it is, but it is, and I'm trying to cope, the best I can, one day at a time -- to fight the depression and fatalistic instincts.
What a month for there to have been a horrible insurance screwup which means that I can't get refills on my scripts, eh? :P