It’s like when you go outside in winter, and the cold air bites your hands and your cheeks and your nose and they go numb if you stay out there long enough. But it isn’t just my hands and my cheeks and my nose, it’s my whole body numb with cold right down to my insides but I can’t just go inside and be warm again. Can you imagine spending your days and nights outside, no warmth left in you, through the whole winter? You have to wait for the warmth, like something you have to earn. But at least when you earn something you have a reason to feel happy, right? Proud. But I don’t feel proud of myself because it isn’t like I chose this and decided to tough it out. It isn’t like I ever had a choice in the matter. It isn’t like someone presented to me the idea saying “How about you get depressed and hate yourself for 4 months every year, huh? It’ll be fun.” All I can do is patiently await spring and let the robins melt my frozen self with their song.