I hate winter.
Just because I grew up in Chicago does not mean I enjoy enduring cold months. It's terrible here. There's nothing to do and it gives you too much time to think.
Too much thinking is bad. You can lie in bed, drink cocoa, and long for something, anything. Maybe not a person, but at least an idea. An idea of "I could be better," "something's missing," or even "I should have done that."
These thoughts are detrimental to our mental health. They pull up insecurities from the past and shout until we're willing to listen. They make you feel like you're the fat kid in middle school phys ed. Or the kid who stutters during reading class.
Sometimes, though, you have to get out of bed, pull yourself together, and keep living. This is not to say that you should live behind a facade because that never seems to accomplish anything, now does it?
It's funny how society tells us how we can reach a point and then we'll be happy. If only we were prettier, if only we were smarter, if only we had more friends or a better job, then we would be happy. But we won't be..
Those aches will only linger, growing stronger, begging you to give everything...until there's nothing left for you to give.
It's funny how the weather can change everything.
It's the place that you have come to fear the most.
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