Winter used to be my favorite season. I loved playing in the snow, kicking icicles off of cars, obsessing over Christmas, seeing my favorite relatives, and going to bed anticipating the possibility of a snow day, among other things. I'm not sure when this change happened, but winter means something altogether different to me now. Now I stress about the condition of the roads, complain about the coldness of my house, dread prolonged family visits, miss my friends terribly and dwell on my fears and insecurities. Now winter means being isolated from most sources of happiness. Not even Christmas is the same, now that I've realized I don't really believe in the significance of its origins. Don't get me wrong, I still happily participate in the holiday festivities, but my heart just isn't in it like it used to be.
I remember a time when it was enough to be at home with my family during these winter holidays. That was when I belonged in this house and my biggest problems were deciding how to spend my birthday money and making sure I didn't poke Q-tips too far into my ear. But as I've grown, my problems have multiplied and mutated. I'm 21, a college graduate, virtually jobless, living in my parents' basement. Now I feel like I've become a burden, the guest that won't leave. The Ouija board that will keep coming back, no matter how many times you try to throw it out. I do love my family a great deal, but the time of blissfully ignorant childhood has passed. I constantly crave company that I'm not related to. That's just another confusing, bittersweet part of growing up, I guess.
And I'm just so lonely. I have many friends who are very dear to me, and I know I would die without them, but they can't be with me at all times. I've been doing my best to not bother them. I understand that I am not at the top of very many people's priority list, and that's fine. I just want to be able to hibernate during those gaps between hanging out with people. No matter how nice my visit is, I'll still be going home alone with no one to interact with other than the monsters in my mind.
I know I'm really whining here, but I feel like I need need to explore this melancholy a bit before I try to dissolve it. I'm in the Wallowing Stage. I'm not sure what stage comes next, but hopefully it comes soon. My good buddy iTunes is acting as my nurse at this time. Sooner or later, I'll be back in the mood for upbeat jigs and percussive jams. Until then, my life is tortured strings and dreary pianos. Until I've found new things to love about winter, I need a new favorite season. Spring's on the distant horizon, so why not that?
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