Ode to Winter

I think depression is like winter. Some days the skies are clear and it is warm. These are the days I think I feel like everybody else, mainly because I feel. Some days are cloudy and grey, where something looms in the distance. Some days it snows, and the cold air bites and freezes. These are the days of depression. People see the snow and do not understand how it feels. They see it and wonder at how it looks, guessing that one may find it difficult to drive in such conditions. Some venture out, others play in it, but some of us live in it. Those who see it and stay inside think they understand. They think that it could make life difficult. But that is never the true problem. The snow makes everything harder, and when you stay out in it it makes you cold and numb. First comes the cold, a subtle biting feeling, sometimes set off by something and sometimes just a product of existence. Emotions disappear, as do motivations and passions, all that one can feel is numb. It is almost comical, feeling nothing. Then often when the feeling starts to come back, like with the cold, it begins with the painful pins and needles, the aches and fears un-felt come rushing back. The returning of emotion is not pleasant either as it is almost easier to continue on like a snowman, unable to understand the emotions you see around you, nearly feeling anger and frustration at how others feel. To fit in I fake smiles and interest, I fake interest and social graces, but I do not feel them. And this year, winter is long and the snow is deep.