Since winter is my most devastating season, cabin fever has been very common to me over the years. Because of my type of deafness, snow and ice are my enemy. I have landed in the hospital on numerous occasions with rib fractures and vertebrae compression fractures because of falling on ice. In my prime, I was about 5′ 10″, now due to the above and general aging I am 4″ shorter. Whenever the outside temperature drops below freezing, I can no longer take my 2 miles of outside walks around my community each day. That, alone, causes cabin fever.
Now that I am living in a community with about 400 other senior citizens, and COVID-19, I have added dimensions to the concept of cabin fever. Before Omicron, I took my walks indoors. When I walk all four floors of the independent living wings here, it adds up to about 1.25 miles. That is an adequate substitute for my exercise. Now that full masking outside my apartment and the contagiousness of Omicron, I don’t feel comfortable doing that anymore. I feel it would be better not to risk spreading COVID because of my walks through all the halls. So, at least for now, indoor walks are also off the table.
So, now cabin fever has me in its clutches even worse than past years. That has put me into another round of winter depression. For us, in the Midwest, mid-January through mid-February is the coldest and snowiest period. As of this post, that will end in just four days. 😆 Thank the Lord. I’m confident that when I can get outside again, my depression will fade away, as it almost always has. I can’t wait for that to happen. It won’t be long now, that the daffodils will be sprouting up and joy will hopefully return to my retirement community life (RetComLife).