Seasonal Depression

Plain text for accessibility

By Eva Bertrand-Brunelle
(Translated by Patrick C. Yancey)

The snow has buried us under its blanket of white

It makes us yearn to hibernate and return to our nest, in a nice warm tree

Like a bear sleeping through the winter

The cold nips at our cheeks and takes a bite

The wind whips our face and slaps us

Our cheeks, red and winded from running so far to escape this man called winter

The tips of our fingers and toes are frozen, they shrink from sight

They ball themselves up, so they don’t feel the cold of winter

Which makes us want to sleep and wrap ourselves in a cocoon

So we don’t have to face seasonal depression

We try everything: light therapy, hot chocolate, winter sports

Nothing works

Winter is out in full force

The wintry clock ticks

The cold softens the brain

We’d like to become migratory birds

Like geese

To migrate to a space that’s warmer, more welcoming, more real, less cold, less frightening

The cold grips our soul and puts it in a jar to freeze it for the winter

Our faintly beating heart is encased in ice

It is barely beating

The cold numbs us, sedates us, knocks us out

But sometimes, the sun comes around and for a split second

For half a moment

Our chilled cheeks feel the heat

And the ice on our heart, deadened and trampled by the cold, thaws little by little

Spring finally resurfaces

Our eyes find their light again

Our days regain their pace

And life begins anew

“Writing it down on paper, whether it’s poetry, whether it’s painting, whether it’s photography, it always helps me to have a healthy coping mechanism…I spit it all [out].” – Eva Bertrand-Brunelle

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