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This is a piece about Holiday Depression.
It's about how, the time of year we now find ourselves moving into, is often the loneliest, most frustrating and stressful time of year this side of the experience of Single people on VD (i.e. Valentine's Day).
Of course I've met more than my share of folks, who just roll their eyes and scoff at the mere mention of the phrase "Holiday Depression", just like I've also met plenty of people over the years, who will quite trenchantly tell you that Depression, itself doesn't actually exist: that it's just a synonym for "Selfish", "Lazy", "Cowardly" and "Immature".
How many times over the years, I've been told to "buck up and be a man", and "just get over yourself, really!"
Well, more than I can count.
But far from being a lament, this piece actually represents an odd, frosty, stubborn (and maybe even delusional) brand of hope that can sometimes sprout within you, even when you feel at your most hopeless. It's a hope that's as delicate as a rime of frost fairyland-dusting the early morning trees and bushes, when winter haze deadens the surrounding city sounds just enough to make you feel like you are in a different place: a better, more forward-looking place, where you can once again feel echoes of the growing holiday spirit you once knew, and which once came to you so effortlessly.
...It's a bit of cheer that comes to you despite it all, and against almost insurmountable odds.
Of course, as most of us know, it's all too easy to point the fingers of judgement, especially when we ignore the old proverb about how every time you point a finger, there are three pointed back at you.
Just like that line from "We Need a Little Christmas"
"For I've grown a little leaner,
grown a little colder,
grown a little sadder,
grown a little older..."
It's about how, the time of year we now find ourselves moving into, is often the loneliest, most frustrating and stressful time of year this side of the experience of Single people on VD (i.e. Valentine's Day).
Of course I've met more than my share of folks, who just roll their eyes and scoff at the mere mention of the phrase "Holiday Depression", just like I've also met plenty of people over the years, who will quite trenchantly tell you that Depression, itself doesn't actually exist: that it's just a synonym for "Selfish", "Lazy", "Cowardly" and "Immature".
How many times over the years, I've been told to "buck up and be a man", and "just get over yourself, really!"
Well, more than I can count.
But far from being a lament, this piece actually represents an odd, frosty, stubborn (and maybe even delusional) brand of hope that can sometimes sprout within you, even when you feel at your most hopeless. It's a hope that's as delicate as a rime of frost fairyland-dusting the early morning trees and bushes, when winter haze deadens the surrounding city sounds just enough to make you feel like you are in a different place: a better, more forward-looking place, where you can once again feel echoes of the growing holiday spirit you once knew, and which once came to you so effortlessly.
...It's a bit of cheer that comes to you despite it all, and against almost insurmountable odds.
Of course, as most of us know, it's all too easy to point the fingers of judgement, especially when we ignore the old proverb about how every time you point a finger, there are three pointed back at you.
Just like that line from "We Need a Little Christmas"
"For I've grown a little leaner,
grown a little colder,
grown a little sadder,
grown a little older..."
Category Poetry / All
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 2.7 kB
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