Melbourne winter hits us hard. It seems to sneak up on us. One day we are lolling about in the park worried about what times are the worst for UV exposure and the next day we are pulling out our electric blankets and trying to wear all of our hoodies at once. Social media feeds are chocked full of weather related complaint posts, pictures of iced over windshields, fog, people rugged up whilst in their kitchen, and other weathery phenomenon. The same thing happens in Summer where we complain about how hot it is and we post pictures of the tents we’ve attached to the fridge in order to cool down.
The thing about Winter though is that everything seems a great deal harder. Our social lives are hampered by the rain and the freezing nights, people forget how to drive when the roads are wet or icy or there’s fog or sportsball, public transport is filled with coughing and sneezing commuters, the weeks seem interminably long, and we just feel so fucking shit about everything ever. I do anyway.
I know this about myself. I know that Winter is not a good time for me because my brain works better when exposed to lots of Vitamin D and time outside, which is less available during these few months. I know that I feel heavily restricted by the early sunsets because I don’t feel safe outside after dark and I can’t drive much at the moment. I know that I am very susceptible to others’ moods and energy. I know that I am very sensitive and feel things very deeply and can take on others’ pain and I spend way too much time worrying about what is happening in my social circles and greater society. I know that this is heightened for me in Winter. I up my self care big time. I try to figure out what kind of self care works for me and when. Sometimes it’s going for a big walk or swim. Sometimes it’s watching a whole season of Black Books in bed. Sometimes it’s a huge bowl of pasta. Sometimes it’s company and sometimes it’s alone time. Sometimes I have no idea and I accidentally get what I need anyway. A lot of the time it’s by saying to one of my safe people that I’m not doing OK and then instead of fixing it they send me a penguin emoji and validation/reassurance and share the not okayness with a big FUCK YEAH THINGS ARE RUBBISH.
And you know what? This year is fucked. I am not OK. Most of my friends and family are varying degrees of not OK. Orlando is not OK. The UK is not OK. America is not OK. Turkey sure as hell is not OK. My dad dying is not OK. The fucken world is not OK. We are not OK.
Don’t tell me to think positive thoughts and get a good night’s rest. Don’t try and fix it with stupid cheer up bullshit. This does not work. It rarely works for anyone and it certainly does not work for me.
I really appreciate the people in my life that own up to not being OK. I really respect these people. What I respect even more are their boundaries and insight into their effect or possible effect on me or their surroundings. Sharing where appropriate, giving people the choice about whether they are up to hearing about the not okayness, creating a safe place to not be OK in together and to veto at any time.
I share my blog on social media. It will pop up in your feed when you don’t want it to. Just like that GoT meme or that article about the election or a picture showing how cute that guy’s cat is. Click on it and read it or don’t. That’s your choice. If you ask me how I am, I will censor myself the majority of the time, as do you. I don’t share how I really am with the majority of my friends or family during an everyday conversation. I try very hard not to inflict my not okayness on every single person I come across. This may seem like mixed messages.
My blog is my place to not be OK in and I post it because I want to share how I’m feeling, what I’ve learnt, something I’m mulling over, because I want attention sometimes, because I want validation most of the time, because people tell me that it means something to them, and because I feel like sometimes by sharing that I’m not OK helps in some small way.
Don't Panic! 
🐧