Does SAD make me sad?

I always wanted to write like the stuff I read which is mainly 'Literary Fiction'. In the last one month, I must have bought more than ten books and started reading them only to leave them after a few pages. Nothing caught my fancy, nothing held my imagination, nothing was reminiscent of anything I could relate to. It was not if the books I picked were not interesting. in fact, when I read some of them later, I was appalled by my own poor taste for leaving such gems as 'On Beauty' and 'Darkmans' which I discovered later. I sometimes wonder whether I too, like women, experience some kind of PMS. Being an internet junkie that I am, coupled with a little bit of arm chair psychology thrown in, I did some research and found out some symptoms. 

Now, Chrisan being the resident therapist here would definitely have something to say about my observations.Based on the frequency and the timing of my behavior, I found out that this has been classified as SAD. ( how appropriate that is! ) Seasonal Affective Disorder. 

For last two years, I have been living in an apartment on seventh floor of a building which gets very little sunlight and air. Add to that my schedule of working from home which required me to wake up at 9:30 and start work from 10. Work usually stretched till 6:30 -7 PM in the evening by  the time it'd get completely dark.Occasionally I would step out to buy some stuff ( primarily to eat) and this whole routine was same for five days of the week except for weekends which I spent trying different things hoping to break monotony. A bickering family, and friendless existence did not help much in either case.

This year, I changed my job. Got myself a regular desk job which required me to sit and work with actual human beings. I got overtly excited by the possibility of working with some bright, intelligent young men and women and making a few friends. It's close to six months now. I have made a few acquaintances ( yes, and I am not being sarcastic) and no real friends. May be I have become too morose, too walled to let people come closer to me. Or perhaps, because I am seen as little senior and boss' protege that forbids people. Anyway, I don't analyse that much as long as I am spending some time in sunlight away from my 'dark' house. However, all said and done, there has not been much change in my depression pattern. 

I have lost interest in doing everything and anything. May be I should migrate to sunny California and leave this SAD life. :)

Melonchalic Madness

It's weird. In fact, I feel it's very weird that I am having some kinda ostrich burying her head in sands thing. I am avoiding happy people, or perhaps I have been avoiding happy people for years.

There was a time when I despite being sad, used to feel happy about other's happiness. Maybe feeling happy myself for their happiness. But, now I treat happiness as some sort of sin. For me, being happy is crime and when I look at seemingly happy people, the first thing I try to look for some hint of concealment of their sadness, as it has become impossible for me to believe people can be happy.

Last few years have been very tough on me, where each day came with a new set of problems surmounting the previous one. Each night before going to sleep, I used to tell myself it couldn't get any worse, knowing well in advance-from my past experience- that things are going to get exactly opposite of what I expect. I considered myself as a brave roman warrior, taking on challenges one after another, in isolation and clandestine. There were things that I couldn't share with my friends or family, without belittling my own sense of pride of bearing it all alone. And more importantly, I never expected people to understand what it actually was.

Now, when that period is over, scars are left -- hidden and deep -- and I look seemingly happy to others. I got most of the things I wanted from my life, leaving behind things that I always felt will be there for me. And , now, when they are not there for me, I have nothing but to ruminate over the bargain I made with life.

A little note to Chrisann, I have not been reading your blog -- I am scared even to open that page, thinking it will be too bright and sunny for me -- it's so strange that I am avoiding people on blogs too..May be, you have a theory to explain my behavior!!