February is bad month.
Of all the months in a year this is one where depression's most likely to strike the hardest. I wished I was stronger than this, I really do. But since I'm not why fake it? I'm better off just admiting it and leaving it out in the open.
It's the freaking Valentine. Well, not the day itself - I couldn't care less about it (yay for small victories). Rather it's the incessant obsession of the media and marketing. Seriously, - and this is not one of those bitter spinster comments - but all the hearts and stuffed animals... I mean, seriously??? I could puke!
And to make matters worse my birthday's just a week after Valentine's. It's like having a humongous clock ticking over my head. I could very well ignore it ten years ago. Now it's not all funny.
I can't deal with it as well as I wanted to. I wanted to be all grown up and independent about it, to toss my hair and say who cares? It would make me proud. Sadly I'm not there yet. So I choose to blurt it out and lay out a plan.