S.A.D.

It appears as though Christmas is fast on the approach and here in Berlin, it would seem that you cannot turn a corner without there being a reminder; whether it's the heavily decorated trees being erected in all the squares, the sways of twinkly lights, sashaying across the ceilings of every department store or the seasonal songs blaring out in the supermarkets – it's safe to say, there is no escape. Personally, I am completely numb to the holidays. I haven't been at home at Christmas in nearly three years and this year will be no exception.

Long gone are the days I frantically ran round the stores, working up a sweat trying to pick out the perfect gifts for loved ones, in fact, I've not so much as sent a card to someone in years. To me, Christmas has always been more about the feeling; that warm fuzzy type you get in your gut, when you start to realise the season has started. The ads on TV, the songs on the radio, the 'seasonal' aisle in the supermarket. I like the cheer, I like the movies, the general vibe.

Having been just mère and I for Christmas since my dad died, five years ago, there hasn't ever been much fanfare in our house on the day. Normally, we simply sleep in, spend the day in our pyjamas, eating our weight in mince pies, whilst watching old movies and then sometime around midday, I cook us a huge feast of a dinner, after which we lay on the floor, bloated to sin, playing board games. It's simple, but it's how I like it. Sadly though, it's been a while since I've experienced it and sadder still, it will probably be another year until I experience it again.

In truth, the winter is a hard time for me and it doesn't seem to get any easier, as the years pass. Perhaps I shall simply attempt to ignore its presence and try my best to hibernate, keeping in mind that spring will come around soon enough...soon enough.

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the winter of my life

I can't believe I've been away from Berlin now for nearly six long weeks.  It seems almost like forever ago, that I hopped on that flight out of the city, a little misty eyed over everything.  In truth, things had simply become overwhelming and I just needed to get out, to think, to gain some distance from my problems.  However, now that I'm about to face going back, there's this undeniable bubble of apprehension building disastrously in my gut.  It's a mixture of excitement, to be back, with hints of 'oh shit, what if nothing's changed.'

The bitterness of winter's approach looms over me and I can't say that I'm looking forward to it, not in the least.  Perhaps once upon a time, when I was still in my own home, with the central heating on high, Casablanca on the box and Mr Pig snoring beside me, I could have quite easily romanticised the season, but alas, being a vagrant in these conditions is not really quite as quaint.  I've been living out of a suitcase for the past sixteen months, sleeping on every friend's floor, sofa and spare bed and I think it's safe to say, I'm currently all out of offers.

At times, this truly feels like the winter of my life and I could weep for...well, so many things really.  I truly just crave to be settled.  To lay some permanent roots.  To find some security, which at times, my life is so desperately lacking.  Whilst in the summer months, I am more than happy to island hop, living in my bikini and sleeping away my afternoons on a beach, in the cold, depressing winter months, I need comfort, hibernation, quiet contemplation.  Right now, I just don't know if that's going to be an option and in fairness, that concerns me.  It makes me question whether I want to go back at all.

It's true that I've found my heart in Berlin, but I have yet to find my place, yet to find my anchorage and without some security, all I want to do is run away.  Escape to Barcelona and ride out the course of winter in a tiny apartment, near to the sea.  Pretend like the rest of the world doesn't exist.  Bury my nose in my books and watch films all day long.  Sometimes my nerves get the better of me.  Sometimes my longings become all too much.  Oh winter, why must you come.

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Limitless

After an arduous time, spent missing out on some of the last and most precious bits of Autumn's sun, I have finally found freedom!  Twelve months of life lessons, condensed into one worryingly slim looking book and now, all that's left is an anxious wait.  Regardless of its publication, I feel happy at the very least, that I have finally followed something through to completion!  It feels satisfying to have accomplished something, especially when, at times, in all honesty, I felt like giving up entirely.

In fact, over the past fifteen months, since I set sail on this grand voyage of discovery, I have laughed and cried in equal measure.  There have been times when I have felt as though all has been lost, fallen apart spectacularly and wanted nothing more than to throw myself out of the nearest window.  However, for every time I reached my lowest low, I always managed to find a little glimmer of hope, that helped act as a ladder, to aid me back out into the light again, enabling me to find happiness once more.

This journey, whilst nearing completion, is in truth, not yet entirely over, but as tough as it has been and as tough as it may yet be, I am proud to say that having gone through it, I have found happiness, purpose, direction, love and faith.  Long gone are those woeful dark days of depression, where my dreams would simply fade into insignificance, entirely untrusting as they were, in their ability to come to fruition.  Now, instead, I have witnessed too many times how strong and courageous I can be, so I allow myself to get excited for the future, in spite of any fears that may still lurk in corners, because I know that I am more than capable of making shit happen!

I completely trust that things are going to work out, even when at times, things look a bit shady on the surface and I can't quite see how it's all going to come together.  After an incredibly long time, I have finally found faith in myself and in life.  That's not to say that I don't still crap my pants at times, or that I don't still have a wobble and cry myself to sleep, but those feelings simply don't weigh me down like they used to, because I accept them as par for the course.  I am human after all, it would kind of be weird if I wasn't a little emotionally unstable at some points.

The things is, I no longer beat myself up about it and for the most part, I just don't worry about things anymore.  One of the most important things I've learnt over the past year or so, is that it's okay, it's simply all okay.  It's okay to feel happy, to feel elated, to feel joy and excitement and it's equally just as okay to feel sorrow, or pain, to feel loss and to feel despair.  Life is simply an experience and it offers you a rainbow of emotions and you should want to feel everything!  Why wouldn't you!?  Why would you want to limit yourself, limit how you feel?

When it comes to the end, I would rather be physically and emotionally savaged by the ferocity of life, in all of its beautiful glory and know that I saw it all, than to have reached my death bed, unused and in one piece, because I didn't want to risk getting broken somewhere along the way.  So I give being guarded, or secretive, or scared the middle finger and I get up and I get dressed and I go out there and I live, breath and embrace life, in all its fucking glory, each and every fucking day, because life is for living not limiting!

“Don’t tell me the sky’s the limit, when there are footprints on the moon.”

— Paul Brandt

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