…and I was born.

I’m an odd child, but I’m pretty sure it’s not my fault.

My father is away a lot “on business. ” He always left at night.

When he’s around, he’s always so serious and seriously thirsty. I think I got my drinking problem from him.

My mother is easy-going and funny when Pops is away, but she gets cranky when he flies back into town. Her collection of scarves and weapons is impressive. I think she was forced into this relationship.

I love the limelight (like my mom), but abhor the daylight (like Pops).

Clouds make me smile and skip merrily. Bright sunshine hurts my eyes and burns my skin.

Too many days of sunshine make me edgy, causing me to whimper.

I’m overly suspicious of my shadow, which follows me and won’t stop mocking me.

I want to be an actress or comedian when I grow up, but I only want to perform inside. At night. In cool places.

I love nighttime.

********

Seasonal Affect Disorder (SAD) affects between 60%-80% of Americans. Often referred to as “The Winter Blues,” people with SAD, feel depressed when there’s not enough sunshine. About 60% have pretty serious cases where they eat whole bags of Lays potato chips and fly into hissy-fits about re-runs of TV shows they don’t even like. The other 10-20% have more mild cases–they only eat half the bag of chips and watch re-runs like zombies.

A lot of research and concern is devoted to these SAD folks who need the sun to feel human. But there’s a tiny percentage of the population who have Reverse SAD, or DAS: Disturbed About Sunshine. Oh, there’s a nod and a wink in the research community to the “Summertime Blues,” as SAD scientists chug a few beers after a long day of research and head for the beach, laughing their lab coats off. Try to Google “summertime blues.” Links to songs and tips on how to cope with miserable kids facing going back to school come up.

Very few people understand my plight or take me seriously. But a plight it is and, oh, it’s serious. Am I a vampire’s love child? I don’t believe so. Am I weird? Well, if being the one person who is standing in the shade with sunglasses and a parasol while everyone is baking out in the sun makes me weird, then yes, I’m weird. But I think my skin thanks me. I know my HSP brain does.

I feel bad for the SAD victims of the world. I just hope that you’ll give me and the 12 other DAS sufferers a little compassion when you’re whooping it up on all those torturous beautiful sunny days.