From Friday until Tuesday, I felt depressed. I didn’t just feel a little bit depressed, I felt really depressed. The world was a rotten, smelly place. I didn’t want to do anything. Everything was awful. I felt awful.
I initially thought that this mood had been caused by the fact that the house were were going to buy we could no longer afford due to the result of the survey. We had to pull out of the sale. That was quite a painful event. That made me sad. However, I wasn’t just a little bit sad, I was really sad. On Monday I also felt sad that my youngest son was seven and this meant that I was old. Then I felt sad about Christmas. And I also felt sad about art.
It wasn’t until Tuesday morning, while perusing Facebook (yes, while sat on the toilet), that I had a weird thought: was my sadness made worse by the presence of the supermoon? I wasn’t the only depressed person out there. Many of my facebook friends and acquaintances were moaning about lack of sleep and anxiety. They had the same symptoms as me. Yet, they still had houses, liked Christmas and weren’t feeling old.
The jury of google is still out on this matter. Some websites claim that a full moon (moon = lunar = lunatic) can cause heightened mental woes and insomnia. Others claim that it is all supposition. People who work in the medical profession may claim that they see a noticeable change in workload during a full moon. The scientists, however, will say this is pure coincidence.
I know differently. From Wednesday onwards, I started to feel better. The house situation hadn’t changed. Christmas still existed. My son was still seven. The supermoon had started to lose its superness. And I felt a bit more cheery. It may be a coincidence but the decorators arrived on Wednesday as well.
I blame the moon more than the decorators. Stupid supermoon. But it has gone now. I feel happier. Christmas isn’t so bad. We’ll find another house. And my son is a lovely seven year old.