the lonely embrace of winter

I don’t know exactly what it is about this season that makes it so depressing and empty, but, at least for me, there’s something.

It could be the lingering cold; the temperatures that plummet so low that you never fully thaw out from being exposed to them. Even indoors wrapped in the snuggest thickest sweaters or hiding under mountains of blankets, that frigid sensation still nibbles at some part of you deep down. That little part that yearns for summer…

More than that, I think it’s the lack of sun. That whole chemistry vitamin D thing comes into effect in a big way. Not to mention that the cold always seems just a little more bearable with the sun out. Once it’s night time that whole cold and stars and black expansive wide sky thing is just cliche in a nearly crippling way.

Whatever it is about winter, it leaves me in a horribly cynical,¬†narcissistic, and depressed mood. Really, winter is the one time of year I should give in to the psychological demand from my brain for xanax and my bipolar medicine. [I’ve refused to be medicated for my neurological bullshit my whole life.] But I won’t give in to those just for winter either. I’m self-destructively stubborn. I am okay with this fact.

I’m not really okay with feeling like crap most of the time once cold weather seats itself firmly in my little northeastern atlantic climactic region, but I suppose I’ll just deal with it.

Probably by bitching a lot and compulsively blogging…

Hi WordPress. You’re favorite preachy teen angst queen is back.


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