This is the season. Three years back I was launched on my current trajectory. I parted company with my girlfriend of four years and then briefly, disastrously, dated a former co-worker. By the middle of December I had contracted some sort of infection after sleeping just once with the former co-worker (Schopenhauer advises dangling one's post-coital cock in vinegar, which, sadly, I didn't do) and was on my way to freedom. No longer -- at least up until now -- would I "share the shelter" with a female companion.
The black of November always brings this back, not in a lachrymose way, but in a feeling of rekindled resolve and purpose.