Post-travel Depression

Hell, if I can suffer from post-partum depression, certainly post-travel depression is a valid diagnosis, right?

It probably does not help that my full-spectrum lightbox is nowhere to be found, or that Max kept me awake all weekend and I of course managed to come down with the bubonic plague or giardia or whatever other shit he brought home from pre-school bundled up with wet mittens, and elbow macaroni glued to construction paper.

I have sat here most of the morning, staring at a document I created with ideas for articles and appropriate places to pitch. Just staring. No writing. Unless you count sending my friend Jenni an e-mail response that consisted solely of JPEG attachments of a bong and several bottles of tequila as writing.

Really fucking useless, this depression thing. Especially when it starts to shape shift. Or when the cat throws up on the sofa next to me and grabbing a few sheets of Bounty seems a monumental task on par with securing a visa to Bhutan.

Send the sun, a goddamn dozen palm trees, a new passport and the wind at my heels.Or just come over and kick my coughing, sneezing, feverish ass. Because if you don’t, it is cat puke, laundry and utterly banal self-flagellation here in Somerville.

12 responses to “Post-travel Depression

  1. Been there done that sorry you’re there, too.

  2. Winter blows. I’m right there with you today. I am not meant for a north american existence I don’t think. It is grey here today too and I don’t feel like doing any of my actual school work I need to do……

  3. Sorry you don’t feel good. 😦 My daughter had a tooth pulled yesterday by the dentist, and today was my annual “pelvic” exam. Does knowing that make you feel any better?

  4. Aw, girl, you still manage to be hilarious, even while feeling like crap. Mamatried is right – winter blows. This too shall pass, and your creativity will come back out and sprout its own palm trees. With or without the tequila bottles. (And for the record, I say WITH…)


  5. I leave for Mexico a week from tomorrow. WITHOUT children. Yes, alone. My first time away from my 3 children for more than three hours. EVER. This is the ONLY thing keeping me sane right now (and the sauna and the gym AND the burbon. And the video library – for the kids). Do you want to come to Mexico? =;?}

    I saw my first real life t@b yesterday. orange, so cute, squeal!

  6. I believe there is post-travel depression. Maybe start planning the next trip? Hang in there!

  7. Al keeps telling me “winter’s almost over.” Of course, when we go on a 25 mile bike ride, he also tells me we’re “almost” to our destination at about mile 15.

  8. I may actually know what you’re going through, if I ever took a vacation. Sigh.

    Either way, hope the blues pass you by soon.

  9. Post-travel depression happens to me almost every time I go on a trip for more than a few days. While you’re gone, you get used to the freedom from regular life, the newness of everything. Coming back is hard. It takes me at least a week to start adapting to the reality of my “real” life, and sometimes even more than a month. I hope that things get better soon for you, and you have a sympathetic ear/shoulder in me if you need anything.

  10. When I relocate to my desert paradise (ha!), you are welcome to come visit me and enjoy my 70 degree, sunny winters!

  11. This is terrible! And it happens every time. It is actually so bad that I do not want to go anywhere again. Maybe it has to do with change.
    Maybe it has to do with environment. Before I go away I reach a high. Excitement, getting everything ready… and then reach that incredible low when I am back. Sucks!

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