In November the thought keeps drifting through my head that everyone at work secretly dislikes me and my class is pointless. In November my sense of futility is powerful and my anxiety is high.
I've been dealing with November brain my whole life. Here in my 47th November I am responding with fish oil and light therapy. ("Let me get your light out of the basement," said my patient husband). And with vigilance-- it will probably be fine, and the solstice is only 6.5 weeks away, but November brain can eat a lot of happiness if I let it.
For a long time I thought November brain would go away if I just tried harder or prayed more. These days I think that I will probably always feel a little blue and a little illogical and a little undisciplined when the fall time change rolls around. That particular combination of out-of-whack neurotransmitters seems to be one of the crosses I have been given to bear.
So I will do my best to bear it cheerfully. That's easier to manage when I get to bed on time. Good night, all.
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