Member-only story
Forget the Ides of March
It’s actually ‘the joys’ instead.
Another grey and rainy morning, driving along the A414, from Ware to Hemel Hempstead, on my daily commute to work.
“I’d like to make myself believe,
That planet Earth turns slowly
It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay awake when I’m asleep.”
Fireflies by Owl City was a hit at the time, a song that I will always link to a feeling of hopelessness. On this occasion I had tears running down my cheeks.
I loved my job, I lived with one of my best friends, I was comfortable financially, but emotionally I was a wreck.
It’s got a name — Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Emotional me
It was a strange moment for me as I’m normally more in control of such things.
Sure my emotions can run high. When I see family and friends in the UK I want to make high pitched bird noises in glee, when I see a dead kitten or chicken, I’m extremely sad, and when I hear some people’s viewpoints, I want to slap them with a cold, stinky fish.
But normally, I try to breathe and make sense of what I’m feeling, so sometimes I may have a look of nothing on my face while I process things.
