During the months between Christmas and Easter, I develop Seasonal Affective Disorder on top of my Dysthymia. The worst manifestation of this is the nightmares. The details change, but the theme remains: everyone is mad at me for something beyond my control.
Sleep is usually a refuge for me. It's an escape from a world that sees me as a failure. Part of my waking routine is to remind myself of all the ways that I did not fail. I usually refer to it as "waking up slow". I probably picked up that term from one of my minions (speaking of ways in which I did not fail).
During the Christmas/Easter gap, though, that routine becomes harder. It's difficult to remember I'm loved when I'm waking from a nightmare that tells me otherwise, night after night. It's a long dark haul from Santa's visit to the Bunny's.
Recent events and the current political climate have shaken my resolve, I won't lie to you. My pie-in-the-sky dream of winning Publisher's Clearing House is over. PCH is gone. Sometimes I pick up a lottery ticket, keeping that dream alive. I know it's unlikely but I freely admit to needing that crutch.
My faith in the Founders' checks and balances has been shaken badly by partisanship, which shows us exactly why the Founders were opposed to political parties. But the party currently in power is experiencing a schism and elections are coming. There's hope still. The American Dream ain't dead.
Easter is almost here. Spring has already sprung. And I'm still dreaming.
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