February is more than a month.
It’s a whole emotional experience, especially in the middle of a pandemic.
It is being tired of grey days and cold and being inside.
Being done with Valentine’s Day, which seems to be designed to make pretty much everyone feel less than.
Longing for coffee dates with friends and hugging people I don’t live with.
I’m just tired of it all, I know we all are.
But, as I write this, I’m realizing that I’ve lifted enough from my depression to be able to actually feel and articulate these things, rather than sit numb—and for that I am grateful.
Grateful that some days the sun makes it out from behind the clouds and even inside through the glass I can feel the warmth on my skin. For these little reminders that spring WILL come.
Very grateful for friends who send me pictures or post videos of their walks through parks and beaches, so I can vicariously experience nature.
I’m grateful for shared experience, even if the experience is February in a pandemic.