Feeling down, drab, gray, weary, etc.? Diagnosis: February

Every year about this time, when we've reach the psychological pit of winter — when it seems we will always be cold, the ground will always be frozen, the trees will always look dead — I think about the wisdom of Dr. Jadwiga Roguska-Kyts.

I've told this story before but it's worth telling again, because we reach these depths every year. Here in the pit of winter, the novelty of the new year is long gone and spring is still a rumor. Day after gray day, we're either underdressed or overdressed because, inexplicably, 6 degrees can mean something wildly different on Thursday than it did on Tuesday.

We wear boots as heavy as bricks and coats that smell of old sweat because, inexplicably, it is possible to sweat even when you're freezing. Snow shovels strain our backs, icy sidewalks menace our bones and the routine act of taking out the garbage becomes a herculean feat.

We can find things to love, of course. Every season has its charms. But the charms of this one are as fleeting as snowflakes. We cheer the sun, then the clouds come. We admire that fresh snow, but it's soon a pile of snirt. We tell ourselves that staying indoors is cozy, and it is, until it makes us crazy.

In other words, it can be a difficult season for many people, even when we're not slogging through a pandemic.

It was difficult for me the year I went to see Dr. Roguska, as she was known, about my malaise. Until her retirement a few years ago, she was my internist, a small, bright-eyed, white-haired woman, trained in Poland before she came to Chicago, the kind of old-fashioned physician who started every visit by sitting you down at her desk to chat. She seemed to believe that to treat you, she needed to get to know you.

That day, I explained to her that I'd been inexplicably blue. I was trying to avoid the word "depressed." Glum, I said. Down. Anxious. Cranky. OK, maybe depressed. Did I need a therapist? I wondered. Medication?

"It's February," she said. "It's winter."

And that was all the medicine I needed. The disease had been named — February! — and the naming of it was the beginning of the cure. I went back into the cold, gray day with a lighter heart, and every year since, I've conjured those comforting words as medicine.

Are you anxious, lethargic, mad at half of everybody? It's February.

February 2021 comes with added challenges. We've living through the havoc of a pandemic and the bitterness of a former president's impeachment trial. In Chicago, we're experiencing one of the coldest winters since 1875, and more snow than normal.

And that's why, in the spirit of Dr. Roguska, I made a list the other day of February's bright spots. Here's mine. I encourage you to make your own.

Two: The Art Institute of Chicago, along with other museums, just reopened. "Something about that feels so poignant to me," said a friend, "and I can't quite put my finger on it. It's bitterly cold out, we're in the middle of a pandemic, our nation is in turmoil — but then you can still go inside a place like that and feel grounded by the enduring traditions of our civilization."

Three: The indoor gardens of the Garfield Park Conservatory on Chicago's West Side are reopening at the end of February. Merely looking at the photos float past on social media — luxurious, giant green leaves, huge yellow water lilies — creates a springtime for the mind.

Four: Chicago's public schoolteachers finally struck a deal that will get many kids back in classrooms soon.

Five: Though the COVID-19 vaccine rollout has been chaotic and frustrating, people are steadily being vaccinated.

Six: Watching squirrels in the snow is surprisingly good entertainment.