Just add it to the list…

Recently, a friend popped over for a cuppa unannounced. Some people freak out an unannounced pop-ins but I don’t really care. We live on a well-worn path of salespeople selling meal kits, the word of God and tree lopping solutions. The doorbell rings quite a bit, much to the delight of the dog. And she goes triple nutsso mode if the person is wearing high-vis.

I opened the door in my robe, and it was at a time in the day when on should NOT be in one’s robe unless on was suffering from the dreaded cold going around.

“What’s up?” she asked.

I rewarded her concern by dissolving into tears. SOMEBODY CARED! I had no idea what was up, but what I knew was that I was blue.

This particular friend is a very caring friend and by the time I had pulled myself together, she had made me an appointment at my GP. She actually took me up herself! The waiting room was empty and so I announced that the crazy one was here for her appointment.

The receptionist burst out laughing and told us that she was the craziest person in our suburb. Then we all agreed that we were all a little off kilter.

My GP came to get me. I sat down on a chair facing her while she asked…

“How can I help you today?”

In which I responded by bursting into tears. She slid me over the box of tissues as I launched into my tales of woe, why I am so anxious because friends of mine keep dying and aren’t we too young to die, and why I don’t want to get my blood tested in case they find out that I too, am terminal with some sort of dreadful disease. Oh and my kids are really testing my patience. I hate all of my clothes. I was finding it very hard to find joy in the things that were once joyful. I went on and on and on until I noticed that she was preparing some type of apparatus to stick into my arm to draw blood. Like a vampire.

“Let’s just this over and done with, Ok?”

My mate came in and held my hand because I am the biggest sook and I don’t even care who knows it. It was done in under a minute.

By this stage, I was no longer hysterical. I was bloody thankful that I had found a doctor who totally GOT ME. We talked about hitting your mid-forties and how it can be a really “challenging” time to navigate. We talked about other shit the was a bit private so I will spare you, and then she gave me a bowel cancer kit so I need to shit on a stick and send it off to a stranger. Which seems legit. Side eye emoji.

My saviour then started going through my records.

“Interesting…” She murmured.

“WHAT IS SO INTERESTING!” I demanded to know.

“Every year, for the last four years, you come and see me the week after your birthday and cry a lot…”

So after some more chatting, she prescribed me with some sitting in the sun time, as well as all the boring shit like exercising, sleeping enough, eating things that are not always deep fried or from the bakery.

Fucking Seasonal Affective Disorder. Just add it to the list!

Do you get blue in the Winter Months? Spontaneous tears? Tell me everything!