I started 2023 feeling depressed. It frankly isn’t anything new, considering how things are in my life. But I started 2023 feeling depressed, but it’s almost the middle of January, and the cloak of gloom has yet to lift.
Winter is, without a doubt, my favourite season. There is just something about its almost sombre, tired look that resonates with my soul, and I love every bit of it. The faintness of the dried dead leaves, the grey sky that almost mourns for the sun to show its face, combined with the cold wind that leaves a trail of goosebumps on my skin like constellations; these are the things I tremendously enjoy. But this time around, even the smoke rising from my lips and coating my vision in a greyish hue couldn’t seem to lift my spirits.
Most days I find it hard to get out of my bed. Not because of the bone-aching tiredness that I deal with almost every waking second of my life, but because of a void that has been growing within me lately.
It’s a strange little thing; when the lights are out and the whole world falls quiet, it speaks to me like a friend. I try to tend to it as I do with the dying plants on my balcony, but for some reason, it keeps withering away, leaving trails of emptiness behind, making things harder to do, which then leads to me lying on my bed for hours, trying to sleep away the sorrow, to no avail.
But life, like the river, does not stand still for me. And some days I have to go along with it, which leads to busier days, which are fine by me, because at least then my mind feels occupied, with piles of things acting as walls to keep out my haunting depression. On those days I fall on my bed with my mind almost empty, and I let sleep embrace me before any voices start appearing.
At some point, I even started watching bits of programs to keep myself occupied. Gripping thrillers with gore and blood combined, I tried watching series to keep the dullness away. And for a time it worked, and I found myself lost in a world full of red and blue sirens, long trench coats, and misjudged characters who I adored more than I should have. But then, even that became too tiring to continue, and I found myself drifting again, looking for the next haunt that could keep me occupied for hours. I have yet to come across any.
I feel like I should go somewhere at this point. The walls of my room feel suffocating at times, and I find myself yearning for a little air to breathe in. I’ve contemplated going to the mountains, or sitting on a beach somewhere, but in the end, the opportunity to head out never came. At this point, I might even take up an open field to get myself out of this tired loop, but in this dusty old city, finding a green empty place is harder than it sounds. So I have nothing left to do but wait and yearn, about something, someplace, and somewhere.
So yeah, I started 2023 feeling depressed. It’s a cycle I go through every other ‘new year’, where nothing feels new, and I am left feeling more the same as I felt the year before.
