Winter is hard.
I never realized just how hard I take winter.
But it's just...hard.
For the first years of my life..I had always been in school. So a down and out mood was generally acceptable thanks to having to write bazillion word essays and listening to lectures (or rather, pretending to listen) that bored you out of your skull and made you contemplate the worst ways to die - so that you could then compare them to having to sit through that lecture (I'm looking at YOU second year medieval history BULLSHIT.)
After my undergrad, I dove directly into teachers college and that meant that I was even busier. The essays weren't as long - the lectures were actually enjoyable and my grades went up huge percentages. But it was busy. So busy that I couldn't breathe. And when I did have three weeks off for Christmas holidays I jet setted off to Africa - leaving from school on my last Friday to drive directly to the airport, and arriving home the Monday school started.
I know, poor me.
Regardless - that year was intense. It took SO MUCH out of me that I felt like I was at the end of my rope come April.
And then I dove into a busy time at work and worked my ass off until August.
I worked all day, and then proceeded to pack my life into two suitcases and move halfway around the world to start a new job. Which I did. Directly following an eight hour flight. In a country with a language I didn't speak. FOR CRAZY PEOPLE.
I traveled, I danced, I worked too much. I took way too many photos and drank expresso. I was happy, I was sad. Life was life - it was what it was and in a lot of ways, it was the time of my life.
The winter was hard - I missed my family, my friends and I learned to hate my job - but I also learned to stand up for myself. Come April? I had a wonderful holiday. Country hoping, visiting with friends, meeting new people, exploring new places, loving everything so much I thought I would burst. English speakers AND sunshine? Could life GET any better?
When I returned back to Switzerland, a friend commented on my happy state, and wondered what was up with me. How bizarre I thought - that it's UNUSUAL to be happy. But I was, and I continued to be. I was renewed I thought, I'd made it through the halfway point and was in the homestretch. Plus, the weather was beautiful. Late nights drinking wine overlooking the Zurisee, picnics in the park on the green grass and plans of holidays to come.
Coming home from that year, I dove directly back into work. I took a day off and tried to recover from the jetlag of moving BACK from halfway around the world after spending two weeks bumming around eastern europe and lying on Greek beaches (I KNOW! My life is SO horrible eh?) and then I dove back into working non stop and doing everything that needed to be done.
Come Thanksgiving though? I was exhausted again. I spent most of my days lying in bed. Alternating between trying to do everything for everyone and be everyone for everyone and deal with bitchy fighting family problems. I also slept. A lot. And avoided everyone and everything because I realized that there was no way that I could be everything and everyone to everything and everyone - so what was the point in being anything or anyone to anything to anyone?
And did I mention that I was exhausted from the whirlwind pace of the first 24 years of my life and needed to sleep?
So I slept. And I pretended that life outside of my little box didn't exist. I tried to take it easy. This was of course in between trying to take care of everyone. And feeling like a complete failure.
And then - somewhere...somehow? It all fell apart.
Because suddenly, it was spring. Life sucked. Death happened. Hate, real hate, more hate than I could ever imagine came out of my being.
But then, despite all of that - life seemed okay. The sun came out. We made maple syrup. I repressed a lot of things and shopped away my sorrows. Far away friends came to visit and we drank wine and talked until 4am. Life was going to be okay.
Summer came, the sun came out and the world seemed a little brighter. Things started to go right, instead of wrong. New purchases, big purchases - life decisions made, for better or worse.
Busy busy busy summer. Wedding. Baby! Sleepless nights.
Working so much I had no idea how I could possibly exist anymore.
But happy. Generally, happy. Dinner on the back porch, family dinners, swimming in the pool and visits with lovely people.
Now though? The busy season has ended. Things have slowed down - and for that I am grateful, I needed a break.
But I'm back to this point - where it's winter...and I have turned into a person I don't like. The person who wants to be a hermit and never see anyone, the person who makes people question where the happy person went. The person who avoids people because she can't handle them. The one who cries for no reason and feels disillusioned by life.
I've come to the conclusion that whether it be timing of life slowing down, or the weather changing - I don't really like winter me. Winter me...sucks a whole bunch of suckage- and although I'm a million times busier, more exhausted and stressed...summer me is generally a lot happier.
Maybe I just need to spend my winters in a warmer climate filled with sunshine and mojitos and thus a happier me.
I could totally work from the beach - Gimme a laptop and a drink in my hand and it would TOTALLY work..