Winter winter winter winter winter winter winter is my absolute favourite time of the year. I adore snow, and cold, and sweaters, and hot chocolate, and skiing/snowboarding (well, when we lived somewhere where that was possible), and, most of all, Christmas. As soon as fall draws to a close and the days start getting a little too chilly for just a t-shirt, my spirit soars.
So, logically, summer is my archenemy. I hate being hot, sweating, going to pools, wearing less clothes, blinding sunshine, too many social events… the only upsides are the absence of school and going camping. I was mad when we went to South Africa two winters ago because it meant I had to have two summers (even though SA was amazing).
But this year, my seasons flip-flopped. I still loved the cold season, but through the fall and early winter I wasn’t doing too well, and then I fell apart around Christmastime. The depression and anxiety hit like a ton of bricks and I almost couldn’t go back to school after break. I hated everyone. Completely lacking motivation, staying up all night and then sleeping too much, eating everything, barely keeping up my GPA and yearbook responsibilities, self harming more, isolating myself from my family, depending on a certain guy way too much, not doing anything I didn’t absolutely have to… I wasn’t in a great place.
So the next few months were just…me getting better. Or trying not to get worst, at least. Ups and downs, antidepressants, trying to go to the gym, attempting to juggle homework and yearbook, trying not to push all my friends any farther away than I already had, serious anxiety over AP exams… There were some really awful times, like when I stopped taking my meds ’cause I’m stupid, or when I had to change doctors.
And now, six months later, in the middle of June, it’s 11 am and I’ve already made a blog post, gone to the gym, showered, cleaned up my room, and practiced piano. Tomorrow I start my first job, and I made over $100 babysitting in the last two weeks because of recommendations from previous clients. Obviously school ending and being on antidepressants both have a lot to do with it, this is all a bit oversimplified, and I still have a lot to work through. But I’m honestly proud of myself. Maybe summer won’t be too bad this year.
(sorry for the depressing-ness/life story. Just something I’ve wanted to write for a while and The Daily Post gave me a good opportunity)