depression has made me a little insular

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March is not the easiest month for me. First of all, the switch to Daylight Savings Time does me no favors. Secondly, Mom's birthday, her death anniversary, and St. Patrick's Day are all close together and that's a lot of emotional stuff for me to push through (Mom came from an Irish-American family, so St. Patrick's Day was a big deal for her). A couple of years ago, my oldest daughter ran away from home on the anniversary of my mom's death and broke my heart again (she didn't take note of the day at the time). There are some happy things in the month too, like the birthdays of children and my dad, but there's still that grief in the background that I try to ignore. I don't always know how to talk about it. Often I don't want to talk about it, which doesn't help me a whole lot, but I don't always have the emotional energy to explain all of my internal stuff, especially people who I know are already dealing with a lot of their own stuff. So I end up not really talking. This week I've had one earbud in at work (with my hat covering my ear so it's not obvious during store hours), quietly doing my tasks while listening to music or NPR and not really engaging with anyone unless they interact with me. I've barely been on my social media stuff, other than doomscrolling through TikTok or Instagram. I've been playing games on my tablet. I've been looking at the TV while Star Trek: The Next Generation is on, but not really paying attention to the screen. This will likely soon pass. I'll catch up on sleep. My brain chemistry will level out. I have things to look forward to at the end of next week (like not wearing the ankle splint anymore) and sad thoughts will eventually be less intrusive. I'll stop wanting to isolate and will post more. In the meantime, I'll be around, even though I'm quieter. Enjoy this picture of last night's dinner of corned beef, colcannon, and Irish soda bread made from my mom's recipe.