Hibernating

I have been struggling with people lately. It seems every time I try to talk to one, it goes wrong. I don't think I'm doing anything differently than usual to warrant lesser results, but perhaps I am.

Or maybe it's just the time of year. Exam time, for the students among us, always produces plenty of stress. Everybody is bent over syllabuses and calculators, trying to figure out what has to be scored on the remaining assignments to capture that coveted A, or maybe just to pass. The pressure of having to study leaves everyone feeling guilty for having a non-school related conversation, daring to think about something else when there's so much schoolwork to be done. Everybody is on edge.

There's also the weather, becoming cold and windy and rainy and sucking all the life force from the poor little humans wrapped in layers, shivering their way from place to place. The wind comes and snatches all the green from the leaves and knocks them to the ground, along with the spirits of those raking the leaves despondently. It's hard to be happy when surrounded by a dead, cold outdoors. It gets dark so early.

Or maybe it's just that my own stock of patience has been depleted. I haven't been sleeping or eating particularly well lately, giving me a chronic feeling of bad health. My head always hurts and it takes conscious effort to stay awake. This doesn't leave much room for dealing with the sensitivity of my fellow beings, and catering to their minute sensibilities. It takes energy that I do not have to deal with people.

So I avoid contact until this time has passed. Now I know why bears hibernate. It's easier to spend these months curled up in your cave, warm and sleeping, than out there trying to communicate with a frustrating world. I stay inside, with my heating and books, where I can remain blissfully alone.