February Sucks

I seem to have a mental collapse  every February.  It is almost without fail.  We are into the first week of February and I feel it coming.  It is my least favorite month of the year.  It is dark and ugly and winter is no longer pretty.  I’ve had my fill.  The smile on my face is temporary in February.  It isn’t sustaining.  “Fake it till you make it” is not cutting it.  

To say February is the fucking worst month of the year is putting it lightly.  I am not warm and fuzzy.  I am not squishy and happy in February.  I am borderline suicidal in February.  I hate this fucking month with as much passion as you can imagine.  I hate February as much as  a kid loves red, juicy popsicles on a hot July afternoon.  I am not normal in February.  I am not Jena in February.  It is a cycle from hell and I hate it.  

I try and confront this god awful month with vigor and passion, but it just doesn’t cut it.  Doesn’t matter if the sun is shining or not,  February sucks. Doesn't matter that I have killed myself at the gym this month. Medicated or not, this month gets my goat every single goddamn year.  You think I’m kidding? Please people, this month blows.  

In February, I have nearly uprooted my entire family and displaced them across the country.  I try to adopt another animal every February, which in the end would only serve to make me crazier.  I drink too much in February.  I eat too much in February.  My marriage sucks in February.  I am a shit parent in February.  

This is not a warm and fuzzy post.  I will try and resume that in March when this month from hell is over.  Maybe then Jena will find her way out of the doom and gloom and spring will finally fucking spring.