Getting up in the darkness only to return to the darkness. Working all day in the darkness of the foundry. The only light I seem to see is the red and white hot flow of the steel as I pour it into the moulds. Depression sets in quickly at this time of year. I long for the spring, the hope and freshness it brings, the sounds of the birdsong as they collect materials for their nests, the poking of green shoots from the soil, and the slow offering of more day light, day after day. The winter drags me down, the cold and wet weather confines me to my home, curtains drawn, sat with my darkness. Life’s heartache and misery, the good memories that draw a tear, the bad memories that make me ache, the failed relationships, the hopelessness of my dreams, and the constant, seemingly unending darkness. I forge, all day, items of steel and yet my mood feels as weak as thin, December ice.
I wish the winter would hurry along, I want, no need, to be through to the other side. The depression and darkness is consuming me again.
And yet it’s only the 5th of November.