Marking time
Dec. 8th, 2019 11:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enemyofperfectThe December solstice in two weeks. Where I live, that means it's two weeks until the shortest day of the year. Two more weeks after that, the days will start getting longer than they are right now.
There are a lot of things I like about winter. It's pretty, even when there's no snow outside; I like the dry browns of it. It's nice to be cozy under a blanket when I know the room is colder. Insects are taking the season off.
I feel dry brown myself, like I'm the tired outline of something that grew once. If I could take the next four weeks off and lie dormant under the ground, I might. If I could sleep all day and night under my warm blanket, I'd like that even better.
It's so much better this year than some I remember. I can still enjoy things, even though it fades faster. I still do most of the things I've promised myself or others that I would do.
I feel brittle and scraped thin, but I can live for four weeks like this. I will probably get more tired around the solstice, but I will rest, and feel better again. I believe that I'll feel better again; that isn't something hollow I tell myself. I know that better times exist.
Medication helps a lot, it turns out. I'm very grateful for it.
And I still look forward to the day when the sun starts coming back.
There are a lot of things I like about winter. It's pretty, even when there's no snow outside; I like the dry browns of it. It's nice to be cozy under a blanket when I know the room is colder. Insects are taking the season off.
I feel dry brown myself, like I'm the tired outline of something that grew once. If I could take the next four weeks off and lie dormant under the ground, I might. If I could sleep all day and night under my warm blanket, I'd like that even better.
It's so much better this year than some I remember. I can still enjoy things, even though it fades faster. I still do most of the things I've promised myself or others that I would do.
I feel brittle and scraped thin, but I can live for four weeks like this. I will probably get more tired around the solstice, but I will rest, and feel better again. I believe that I'll feel better again; that isn't something hollow I tell myself. I know that better times exist.
Medication helps a lot, it turns out. I'm very grateful for it.
And I still look forward to the day when the sun starts coming back.
