It's Not in My Head
I was born for this. Sunshine. It is impossible to understate the healing power that the wind and warm and sunlight has imposed upon my soul. It’s easy to discount depression that creeps in gradually like a mold and wraps itself around my mind and heart in the darkness of winter, but feeling it fall away like a heavy coat after a couple of days in the sun removes all doubt that it is a very real thing. I’ve been hidden away for months, pushing through the things I have to do to get by, coping by preserving the little energy I could scrape up to do the bare minimum at work and at home, cutting off most of my relationships because there’s just. nothing. left. It’s like my battery was completely zapped and the only teeny little hints of recharge came with hours nestled into my couch blankets with as many dogs as possible.
And then I step into the sunlight in Mexico and the heaviness lifts. The sadness fades. I can’t remember what it is about life that I hate so much… it’s so beautiful. Even with no running water or towels or waiting in lines for hours… it’s no big deal. I feel happy again. I feel capable again. I feel energized again. I feel ALIVE again.
Every winter it seems to get worse for me and this year has been overwhelming. There’s a combination of contributing factors for sure, but all of them seem more manageable in the sunlight. I can throw my pack on and trudge happily for miles in the sunshine, where I could barely stumble a half mile down the trail at home in the cold and dark. Everything feels doable. The headaches that had persisted daily since I had COVID are gone. My endless appetite for garbage comfort food is almost entirely gone (almost). I WANT to get out of bed and see what is going on outside. I haven’t experienced that since last October, or maybe longer. I have words to write, I feel interested in life again – the lack of these over the winter are the cause for most alarm, it’s easy for me to start questioning why I even exist when there are no words for me to put on paper and my curiosity about life goes dormant. I can’t afford those losses anymore. It’s time to live in the sunlight.