I hate the snow.

I hate how it disrupts lives, creates confusion, and chills humanity to the bone.

When I find that I can’t get around to do even the most simple tasks, I get very frustrated.

And depressed.

Sure, it has a certain placid feeling about it. Yeah, it’s “pretty”…and I am told that all the time. “Why can’t you just relax and appreciate the beauty of it? What’s the matter with you?”

I feel isolated this time of year. The white stuff only adds to that (in my mind.) Along with the sparking of the survival instinct (food, shelter, etc.) to make it through however long it might last, it’s a rare occasion for me to feel comfortable waiting out the event. And that is part of my “bah humbug” attitude towards this stuff.

To me, it also emphasizes the loneliness of Winter –

Dark.

Damp.

Cold.

Maybe that explains part of my depression. My birthday is in two weeks – in the depths of Winter. And it just makes it that much harder for me to offset the influences of this external environment on the darkness in my soul.

Winter is here.