The Defiance of Rain
Yesterday, it rained. The day before that, it rained. It rained last weekend. It’s going to rain on Sunday. Cold rain, muggy rain, torrential rain, we’ve had it all.
It’s hard to get excited about house hunting in the rain. It’s unbelievably unmotivational to work out in the rain. And it’s fucking impossible to raise a new puppy in the rain. Rain makes me want to sleep…and drink…and watch 5 seasons of West Wing while pretending Martin Sheen is actually our President. Rain is now responsible for me taking up permanent residence in Fantasy Land.
I’ve known for some time that I am susceptible to Seasonal Affective Disorder. For once, the medical community might actually have gotten an acronym correct because SAD is precisely how I feel. Along with tired, irritable, hopeless, sluggish, hungry, and sans joy. While SAD is most commonly associated with individuals who experience full seasons of transitory depression, it can also result simply from multiple days of crappy weather. I mean, check out these symptoms…I could eat an entire lasagna without pausing for air.
When I get like this, my husband starts getting nervous. He’ll ask me “Are you okay” in 800 different ways he thinks are creative and super secret spy-like. Basically, he’s trying to ascertain his level of responsibility for my funk and how long I’m likely to stew on it. Since “It’s raining…again” is a fairly lame (and unbelievable) explanation, I usually stick with “I’m fine”. Fortunately, he’s learned that if it is, in fact, raining…again, he might want to wait until the sun is shining to assess my global feelings on life, our marriage, or him.
I am fairly good at masking this, or, at least I hope I am. I still function. I work, I exercise, I attempt sleep, I socialize. But, I also nap. And closet drink (which I proudly have NOT done this week!) And mope. I use up all my energy when I leave the house so those that are confined behind closed doors with me are stuck with whatever’s left. And all because it’s raining! Jiminy Crickets! (Okay, I would never normally say this, but I feel like Jesus has enough to deal with today.)
I hate feeling like this. As a self-acclaimed rational female, I cannot stand the oppressive weight of the incredibly minor and entirely temporary depression I feel in these moments. This insider’s view of depression fills me with incredible empathy for those whose SAD is not solved by a sunny day.
Because I know my sun will come out…tomorrow. Very likely why Annie has always been my favorite musical…#revelation. And when it does, I will immediately feel like myself again. I’ll go for a run with the pups. I’ll do the dishes, fold the laundry, make the bed. I’ll write a blog post, manage two conference calls, meet with the accountant, go to the post office, call the realtor, make a dinner comprised of vegetables instead of cheese. I’ll even whistle while I work (okay, not really, I hate whistlers, but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post). I will laugh at my husband’s painfully silly jokes and make a few much wittier ones of my own. I will be downright cheery (and arrogant, apparently). All because there is sun and therefore, in my world, sanity.
I hope I can learn how to be defiant in the rain. Because boy, a lasagna-fueled, sleep-deprived, irritated me would be the definition of defiance. Take away coffee and I may just start shooting lightning bolts out my ass.
It is humbling to be controlled by something outside yourself. It is also humanizing. I succumb to rain. And I hate it. But that means I also rise to the sun. And what a powerful ascension that can be.
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If you suffer from depression of any sort or know someone who does, please consider clicking the green heart to show your support for all of us who are learning to be defiant in the rain.
