It always seems worse in the deep days of February.

bawkbawk
bawkbawk

On February 1st I took a 9 a.m. flight from New York to Detroit on 2 hours of sleep and then ended up stranded in the train depot for the entire day while the city became buried under 16 inches of snow. So, that’s how my month started out – tired, buried, and in an abandoned world of gray. The rest of the month has felt similar.

I remember in college when I was a psychology major for a bit reading about how February always has the most suicides. Several years later I have no idea if that stat is still true (or if it were ever true) but it feels like it could be pretty true right now. I think we could all safely agree February is quite possibly the worst month of the entire year. Every other month brings some sort of season, holiday, or renewal to look forward to. But February? What has February ever done for us?

I said that to someone standing in line today at a coffeeshop and he looked at me rather strange. Or maybe he was just upset I bought the last blueberry scone. Either/or. But that’s what February does to the human soul! It turns us into strangers itching to break out and act like a little weird because we’ve been cooped up indoors for months under artificial lighting. It’s all so numbing. It’s like The Shining but IRL.

This has been my schedule since December:

1. wake up
2. make coffee + eggs
3. read the news
4. look outside
5. see darkness // see gray
6. feel sad/depressed/empty/dead/whatever
7. talk to my mom on the phone
8. promise her I’m doing okay
9. writewritewrite
10. cruise the deep web for ~inspiration~
11. google costs of airfare to exotic destinations where the sun shines every day
12. bullshit with friends/coworkers between numbers 9, 10 and 11
13. look outside
14. see total darkness again
15. die a little on the inside

Basically what I’m saying is winter is a monotonous drag where everyday feels the same and the nights are too dark and everyone’s a little bit sad and the effects are extraordinarily odd.

I become an unknown character in my own story during winter. I turn inward and block out most of the rest of the world, because in some weird way it feels better to stay in and do nothing but write and sleep alot and patiently wait for spring, than try to fake it out there in social settings with friends who I know are all feeling the same drabby way.

I think life/the world at large/everything in general all feels a bit worse in the deep days of February. At least the month is already half over? At least my birthday is coming up? At least the calendar says spring will be here somewhat soon? At least House of Cards season 3 is coming up?

At least // at least // at least. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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