Seasonal Affective Disorder

It's that time of the year. The time when my depression kicks it up a notch.

Most people with Seasonal Affective Disorder feel it in the fall and winter. Me, I get it when it gets hot. I've had Mays when I began to feel adolescent levels of depression. Last year (year before last, maybe?) I felt like a big black hole opened up in front of me as I drove home from my Women's Spirituality Group one Wednesday. Fortunately, for the last five years I've been able to tell that this is the Summer Depression, to recognize it for what it is, and not let it get to me too badly. Sometimes I've upped my medication dosage (with the cooperation of my doctor!). Sometimes I just deal.

This year, what with the fairly large dosages of antidepressants I take on a regular basis, the advent of the Summer Depression has been different and a much smaller event. This year I'm not really depressed so much as ... irritable.

I began noticing it last week. I was irritated with DH, for no good reason. I was irritated with DS -- although with good reason. I was irritated Saturday night with a couple of people, and the thing that was irritating me wasn't even their fault. (And now that I know who's fault it was, I'm not even surprised. Frankly, I've spent the last three years irritated with him; why should I stop now?)

I've even been irritated with myself, as in when, as when we were voting for our new Officers and Board and such at our Congregational Meeting on Sunday. The guy running the meeting says, "All in favor say Aye!" and I said "Aye!" "All in favor say No!" And I said "No!" Why? Dunno. My mouth was on and my brain wasn't, maybe? I certainly didn't mean it! (And if you're reading this, Gregory, really, I'm awfully sorry. I *really* didn't mean it!) But I'm still irritated with myself.

I may even be contagious. This evening DH and DS had a little blow-out -- in which, unusually, DH was totally right. Normally when he blows his top there's plenty of fault to hand to both parties. This time, DS was completely, totally wrong. He may even know it, since he didn't run into the front room and attempt to 'splain to me how picked on he was. Not that it would have worked, since when he did come in here, I added my comments to his dad's. He got awfully quiet after that. And, btw, can I just say, a nearly 23-year-old man living with his parents has no business complaining that he's being treated like a child? Particularly when he can't even wash his own clothes? I'm just saying.

Anyway, I guess it's progress that my depression is just irritation. On the other hand, I was able to discount the depression. I recognized the disordered thinking involved and could get past it. I don't seem to have that skill with irritation. I may be difficult to live with for a bit.

Not too much to report on on the knitting front. This is newsletter week in the S household, which means I have to stop myself from doing all sorts of things that are more fun. Here's another place where I'm irritated with myself. See, doing the newsletter for the church is, mostly, enjoyable. Occasionally it makes me want to tear my hair out and defenestrate my computer -- but that computer is now DS's computer and this computer, mostly, behaves better. And most people get their stuff in on time (except for Chuck, of course), so that's better. But with my usual talent for procrastination, I find that all sorts of other things that I've been meaning to get done all of a sudden get done when I should be doing the newsletter. Sigh. But I'm getting better, I really am. I did stop a little earlier than I expected to this evening, after having to deal with a particularly disgusting paragraph (newsletter readers will not have trouble identifying it) that turned my stomach. But I'll get back on the horse tomorrow.

So, not too much knitting. I did try the fingerless glove, gauntlet part, on DS's arm and I pronounced it fit fine, so I need to cast on the second one. (Not as much as I *think* I need to, though.) And progress was made on the baby blankets on Saturday and last night while watching this week's Doctor Who. However, one of the moms made more progress than I did. Late last week the twins, both boys, made their appearance in the world, so I need to get working on those blankets. (But I need to do the newsletter first. Sigh.)