Seasonal

Winter is here.

The weather is gloomy, the days are shorter, and depression has set in.

Every morning I have to wake up and face the day. Will I shower? Maybe. What about cooking? I’ll do leftovers in any form to avoid it. That sounds quirky but it’s not cute. Dishes are piled high in the sink and clothes are all over the floor, so I look away. I’m sad. I want to do more but nothing stays done. Getting up and getting out is like lifting dead weight. I’m the deadweight and my heart is the heaviest part of me.

If I’m at work or out with friends, that’s when I push the lie that I’m fine. I know that I’m not.

Every evening I pass the time to stay up late just to postpone the morning. The hardest part is when I lie down. It means the day is over and the next one is about to begin. Closing my eyes will not help me sleep. I just stare at nothing until I wake up.

These feelings came on so suddenly yet should have been so predictable. I’m frustrated with myself because I seem to struggle every year. Why Isn’t knowing ahead of time enough to prevent it from happening again?

Winter is here. I wish I wasn’t.