I really struggle in winter. I really struggle. I think it's the endless grey days and the days when it never stops raining that get to me the most. I hate them.
This year has been particularly bad. I have not struggled like this since the winter when, eight years ago, I was made redundant. I think this year is particularly bad because last winter was spent in the French department of Aude, with its proliferation of wonderful blue skies, nearly every single day. Now I am sadder than sad on the sad days. Blue skies here in Norwich are a rarity. It's all very soul destroying.
I've suffered with depression most of my life. I mostly manage to cope with it. It's often been with the use of self medication (alcohol) and, in more recent years my art has become my therapy. That's quite a turnaround, because in my younger adult years it was also a source of my depression. Thankfully when I realised what art really was and what its true purpose was I became free from its tyranny. I became free to enjoy it. It liberated me. I also took the decision to stand back from Twitter. It had become quite toxic I felt. And, I have to admit that since I've paid it little attention, I no longer get quite as wound up.
These endless grey days just drag and I need sun. There are days when I really struggle to get out of bed. No amount of creating can help at the moment unfortunately. Perhaps it's more to do with the state of this country? I don't want to be here. That and the fact that we're only halfway through winter!
