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And the Holiday season is upon us...
Dec. 13th, 2019 01:45 pm And Holiday depression has been on the rise, desperately waiting for the Winter Solstice. This first milestone means the days start getting longer. The second, for New Year's Day, means I can put another Holiday season behind me.
The usual stress dreams that permeate this time of year have been accompanied by full terror nightmares. Not all the time, but enough that I find myself delaying going to bed at night. Several nights this week have gone into early morning, instead of my usual habit of being in bed between 11:30 and midnight.
It's been several years since I haven't had a date for NYE and I am really not looking forward to it. There will be plenty of fun and good people to see... and a few that I can kiss. But that inner font of insecurity, keeps telling me that going "stag" to NYE paints a big L for Loser on me.
Yes, my head knows how incredibly irrational this is. But my head and my heart tend to see a lot of things differently. If my head had its way, my heart would be chained up in a vault that requires 3 keys, a combination lock and a fingerprint reader. And the fingerprint wouldn't be mine. The heart has, so far, been successful in avoiding that.
*sigh* I know it will get better. If I keep hanging in there, Jan will roll around. Then I won't be feeling the burden of widowhood so much. But if I get one more stupid line* in response to my grief, my iron control over my temper will be sorely tested.
*Got #37 from the Worst Things to say to a Griever this week... from a damned HR "counselor".
The usual stress dreams that permeate this time of year have been accompanied by full terror nightmares. Not all the time, but enough that I find myself delaying going to bed at night. Several nights this week have gone into early morning, instead of my usual habit of being in bed between 11:30 and midnight.
It's been several years since I haven't had a date for NYE and I am really not looking forward to it. There will be plenty of fun and good people to see... and a few that I can kiss. But that inner font of insecurity, keeps telling me that going "stag" to NYE paints a big L for Loser on me.
Yes, my head knows how incredibly irrational this is. But my head and my heart tend to see a lot of things differently. If my head had its way, my heart would be chained up in a vault that requires 3 keys, a combination lock and a fingerprint reader. And the fingerprint wouldn't be mine. The heart has, so far, been successful in avoiding that.
*sigh* I know it will get better. If I keep hanging in there, Jan will roll around. Then I won't be feeling the burden of widowhood so much. But if I get one more stupid line* in response to my grief, my iron control over my temper will be sorely tested.
*Got #37 from the Worst Things to say to a Griever this week... from a damned HR "counselor".
