Other side of half way

The longest night, belonging to the winter solstice in the southern hemisphere, was on Thursday. It was a particularly dark and cold night; I'm glad its over.
I look forward to more light, longer days and spring. But before that comes the worst ravages of winter, always in the second half.
For now, mostly silently, I'm struggling through each day, taking them on one at a time.
At dusk I had my first proper, and longest, run ever in Waterval Boven, followed by a good stretch.
I've had a torrid week.
It's the most miserable I've ever been here in 5 years (on 29th June 5 years ago I left corporate Ogilvy for the last time and moved, that night, into this house).
My heart for here appears to be gone, I'm finding it excruciating and painful to be here.
I took the photo of the lighthouse, built in 1972 if I'm remembering correctly, at Tugela River Mouth on Monday. That day also turned into an excruciatingly painful late afternoon and evening: the tears streamed down my face in the car on the way back to Zinkwazi Beach, then again on the beach. My gut was lead-heavy with dread at leaving for 'home' the next morning.