I had a brief online conversation with another blogger, where I confirmed my drug of choice when down in the dumps (aside from red wine) was chocolate. A Mars bar for breakfast -offering the perfect depressive hit, chocolate high packed with self-loathing.
One day last week I had two Creme Eggs. And some Galaxy Counters. What a bad girl, and they didn't even hit the spot. I decided to try and wrestle something from my mood, take the bad boy down and cheer the hell up before I pissed away another boy's early months on mooning and mooching and helplessly hating myself. We went out and bought sunglasses. Buying things per se is not always a good idea, though it is a trait I recognise in my depressed self from afar. But I'd say there was an argument for buying new, or at least in frugal times re-discovering old, sunglasses for the early blaring brightness of spring.
They don't hide the window to my soul, or even suit me terribly well. They did give me a reason to go out and a sense of being part of the throng though I haven't been finding the bid for summer terribly easy. I read this winter that most suicides occur in spring. I don't doubt it. A time when the overriding social expectation is for new buds and flowering out and fertile room for growth - all very well but actually a really good whip for your self-esteem if you don't feel terribly hot, whatever the weather.
And for me, it had an (almost upbeat) sense of defiance which was useful and the right response to too many tears. After all, I have small people who are learning from my example how to keep buggering on through the world. And though I hope they are learning how to find playfulness amongst the shadows, joy and beauty and laughter, I hope they are also learning too that things can continue with their own momentum when the world isn't feeling quite so solid and hopeful.
Depression can't be solved by hiding away, just as it can't, however cup half full we'd like to be, be solved by getting back on your horse and geeing yourself back into happiness. Acknowledging the daylight and the turning seasons though, perhaps without pausing to think too much about what they should or could represent, is more possible somehow from behind enormous sunnies. Using the gloom to face the sun, the inherently cool to moderate, and twisting the metaphor as tight as toffee, can harnesses just enough momentum for wobbly feet to keep inching along in those flip flops.