I have the emo

A couple of days ago, I found myself painting my toenails and fingernails black whilst nodding my head to My Chemical Romance.

I stopped for a moment.

I looked in the mirror.

I was wearing a black vest under a black hoodie, with dark blue (almost black) jeans and a scruffy pair of converse. I had recently dyed my hair so it was looking quite dark. Earlier I was bored and had painted eyeliner on for something to do. My skin was paler and more corpse-like than usual from being cooped up indoors for so long.

The panic building slightly within, I did a quick stock take of my feelings, man.

Apathetic - check.
Disheartened - check.
Grumpy - check.
Dejected - check.
Spirits at an all time low - check.

Oh dear gods. There's no doubt about it.

I have the 'emo'.

But, wait a minute; isn't the 'emo' only for kids? I'm an adult. I'm not angry with the world. I have a good job. I live in a nice apartment. I recycle and I buy flowers for my living room. I have plenty of friends and my parents definately DO love me enough.

Plus, I don't have one of those silly haircuts.

So what's going on? What's with the general feeling of malaise that's been hanging over me for the past couple of weeks? Why am I suddenly listening to Green Day, Funeral for a Friend and AFI and the like and thinking they write bloody good songs? With an emphasis on the bloody. Why have I become so anti-social? Why does the thought of interacting with people fill me with dread and a slight loathing? Why do I feel an affinity with the teenage boy from Little Miss Sunshine who hasn't spoken in nine months? Why is it that the only thing I want to do right now is crawl under my duvet and shut the world out?

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!

*ahem*

Could it be the simple fact that I haven't seen sunshine in about five weeks? Could it be the fact that it's been raining non-stop for about thirteen days now and I'm at the stage where I'm actually sodden on the inside? Could it be the pervading smell of damp coming from everywhere? Could this be what's making me feel like curling up into the foetal position on crying myself softly to a never-ending sleep?

Probably.

I used to scoff at the idea of Seasonal Affective Disorder. I used to think it was a clever little marketing ploy that some man with a neat little ponytail thought up of in a boardroom somewhere. He even shrunk it down to a snappy and appropriate T.L.A. (that's Three Letter Acronym for all you non-cynics). Why? So he could flog us extra bright lamps which promise to cure the depression.

And then I realised that I'm always much, much happier when the sun comes out and that, in the depths of winter, I spend most of my time walking around in a daze wishing I was a bear so I could hibernate until the sun comes out again. I'm not even too bothered by warmth, as such. I just want to see that big fireball in the sky, beaming down at me and sending me sunny-love-vibes and then I feel all good again. And now, looking outside at the grey sky with the rain pelting against my window, I'm convinced I suffer from S.A.D.

So here's an idea.

You know all those emo kids that live in sunny places like California and France and, oh, I don't know, Cuba? You know the ones. They look something like this:

I propose we start up some sort of S.A.D. <--> Emo exchange programme where we send teenagers from hot and sunny countries to rain old England where the weather and generally shite climate will match their mood perfectly. People will EXPECT them to be emo over here. It's the law. And, in exchange for this wonderful opportunity to indulge your inner whinger, us adults affected by S.A.D. will take your place in said hot and sunny country to soak up the rays and get a tan and generally feel much better about themselves.

Doesn't that sound good?

So, if you've got an emo teenager or cousin or brother or sister, pop him/her in an envelope and post it to me and we can start putting the wheels of this happy clappy No-More-SAD-Emo's™ exchange programme into motion.

I thank you.