January has always been a tough month for me. I suffer from seasonal depression and though it starts around October, it hits it's peak in January. This year is no different.
First, it's an unlovely time of year around here. A fresh snowfall can be lovely, all soft and sparkly white.
The rush of the holidays is over in January and a long chilly winter stretches ahead. My birthday is coming up fast and though that was an exciting prospect when I was eight years old, it's lost most of it's fun. After 40 birthdays are just an unpleasant reminder of things not accomplished.
Then there are the unhappy dates. My Mom died on January 15, 1998. It's a day that is hard for me because it's also the day I met Rob in 1986. We used to celebrate the day when we were first married but now I have too many mixed memories.
January is a time when I seem to be moving in slow motion. There are things I want to do but don't seem to have the energy to do them. The dogs tend to be underfoot more than usual both because they want to be inside to stay warm and because they sense my mood.