Fuck depression with a chainsaw.

This is the face of someone who is depressed and struggling to sort out their brain. It's also someone who is desperately trying to be warm despite the cold weather. Our heater is trying its best but barely managing to be at 70 degrees when we have it set higher. Why? Because we're on the windward side of the building and the temperatures are fuck you degrees, with the windchill of go and die.

Being cold makes me depressed as much as the low levels of sunlight this time of year. It brings up flashbacks to living in my parents' house where it was cold all the time because it was super drafty despite their best efforts. Some of those flashbacks are meh, most of them suck. Because they consist of my asking them to turn the heat up and them telling me to suck it up (or something similar), fully aware of the fact that I lack the bodyfat layer that keeps you warm due to the fact I was a preemie. 

It's left a mark. I hoard blankets and quilts. I have a pile of sweaters. I tend to wear layers when it it just beginning to get cold and everyone else is out there trying to get just another day of wearing shorts out of the weather. I worry about the weather and its effect on my family. Today's temperatures, I was hoping that school would delay pick up because the wind chill was -12 deg F. I had the kids wait in the entryway of the building before going out to meet the bus. My youngest was freaking out over the idea that if he was outside, he was going to get frostbite. (He was fully bundled up and did not get anything like frostbite on his walk to the bus.)

I stay inside during the winter because the cold hurts. It feels like my hands and feet are burning, even with gloves on. It doesn't do my arthritis any favors. The weather systems that blow through still give me migraines. It's generally awful and I hate it. The problem is, I remember life before migraines and when I was young and dumb. I loved winter because it was beautiful. I remember getting bundled up into layers and a snowsuit to play outside. I hated shoveling the driveway, but aside from that, winter was fun outside and we didn't have to worry about my parents. My parents, however, strictly monitored how much time we were outside and didn't allow us to be out for very long. One of the few things that they were responsible about, I suppose.

Being trapped inside, however, there was a lot of verbal abuse and harassment. I got depressed and immediately was branded as lazy, selfish, and worthless. To say the least, that didn't help my mental state at all. I tried to keep up with things but it was exhausting. I hid in my room most of the time with my writing stuff and under a pile of blankets to actually be warm. I got accused of sleeping all the time and being lazy because of it. This was all on top of the usual verbal abuse and harassment because of the fact that I wasn't born a son.

The sad thing is when I do get depressed, I have emotional flashbacks to that verbal and emotional abuse and feel that I am lazy, selfish, and worthless. It sucks.