Just one of those days

I’m having one of my down times right now.

I know it’s spring and I should be in brighter spirits, but the weather is a bit cooler than I’d like and the wind is a tad strong for my taste.  I should be feeling better, now that the long winter is over.  Winters always put me in such a bad place, the lack of light in the morning and evening, the cold weather, the biting wind.  Spring and summer are what I live for, and sometimes even fall.

But this year has been a bit different.  March acted just like February, April came in like a lion, and really didn’t go away.  Now May is sort of the lamb with a bit of an attitude.  Hopefully it gets better, May is only half over, after all.

There are some other forces that are helping this feeling.  I know the usual of what some people will say.

“Oh cheer up, it’s not that bad.”

“Don’t be some glum, chum.”

“Suck it up, there are people in much worse conditions than you are.”

Really, I understand that.  I do.  But you have to understand what I feel.  It’s not just a simple matter of cheering up.  That’s painfully hard sometimes.  I’m lucky I can write this, because often I don’t feel like doing anything at all.  And making it into a rhyme doesn’t always help.  Sure, I might chuckle or smile at the reference, and for a brief moment things might be alright, but they’re still there.  Those feelings that I sometimes get.

As for the last one, to anyone who has ever said it in the past (including me, before I began to understand what it was like), saying that is the least sensitive or thoughtful thing you could say to someone.  I am fully aware that there are people who are in much worse conditions than I am in at present.  I even know some people, who if they thought about all the people with all the serious problems in the world it would begin to crush them terribly so.  My problems are not theirs and their problems are not mine.  While someone in Palestine does have the same basic needs and rights that I do, I cannot say that I fully understand their life.  I cannot imagine what they go through.  And while I’m certain that they would be far better off if our situations were turned around, I really wouldn’t want to wish it upon them to have these feelings.

I can’t even explain them properly.  I don’t know what truly brings them on, I just know that I lose all interest in doing things.  Writing, reading, going to the park.  I just want to sit in my apartment and stew.  Or cry.  Or nap.  Or do anything that involves doing absolutely nothing.  And I wish to talk to people even less at times.

I don’t like this feeling.  I’m not productive.  I merely go about my day with this robotic appearance, not really taking notice of what I’m doing.  I could be vacuuming, dusting, eating, doing dishes, sitting on the balcony.  It doesn’t really matter, it just passes me by in the most mundane of manners.

But I’ll try to continue to do what I do.  I have my goals and my dreams, and I’ll push forward.

Some days just might be harder than others.