
The State of Washington has become a center of cold, harsh weather where the majority of the days out of the year consist of early sunsets and gloomy days. This has led to a growing number of Washington-based adults suffering from anxiety and depression, in which 46.3% of them have reported symptoms. Deemed the “Winter Blues,” Seasonal Affective Disorder has caused many residents to discover that the weather has a dominant effect on their mental health. Washington ranks at the higher end of the spectrum for states dealing with high levels of depression, whilst Spokane and Seattle reached the top 50 cities suffering from depression.
To raise awareness during difficult seasons, a personal essay was written by the author, Gaebrielle Manikan, who finds herself isolated with a heavy heart when winter comes. The short essay is entitled “How Do You Live?” and is dedicated to those who may feel alone as they overcome their mental health battles.
How Do You Live?
We wake in a bed, smothered by hot, breaking sweat. Our hearts pounded as it has every other day. Yet, no longer did we find solace in the crack of dawn. It was always followed by the hollow night haunting our window sill. “Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow,” we would affirm, knowingly unweighted. Tomorrow, we should be better. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.
It was a new hour of holding ourselves steady, but these trials became stained underneath our eyes. We shook our heads to the blasphemy of another wretched dream- To that, we are fine. Our eyes fluttered to a close, but the birds raced to a solemn chirp before we could find ourselves unsoundly asleep.
When the expectations called for our greatness, it was almost unbearable. Almost like a piercing shriek that helped us muck up through low-hanging clouds and the hurried goodbyes of the Sun. We sat empty in a room that bled with talent. The simple wooden shelves could hold themselves up under the pressure of a thousand pages and trinkets. The walls were far stronger. Yet, the carpeted floor was the greatest amongst them all, even beyond our being. It hoisted with a great Goliath strength. What greed did this room have to cause a cascade of shame that pushed us deeper into the bed frame? We were smuggled underneath woven sorrows, weighing the unwillingness to admit our jealousy towards the foundations of our home for hoisting the ability to hold itself together.
We cried into these palms that were always out to reach for an impossible warmth as our body moved toward the neglect of skin-to-skin, warm patterned breaths, and the sensation of a thousand different scents that subdued our desires for more. If only it had been a season, a centimeter, an inch closer, then we would not feel so empty of this given life. We were gentle when approaching the portal to broader dreams. Slowly, our hands reached out. Hesitant yet desperate. Unwilling yet needing.
It was in those passing moments of commute that reminded us of these sore palpitations of wants. When lovers were hand-in-hand, children fluttering by with blooming innocence, and the gentlemen of the elderly who wined by the caskets of olden friends, there seemed to be more than just the four corners of our crooked walls. Our eyes bore into the other side of a world that was no hound to these nights. How hauntingly fascinating. As though it were a storybook plastered through the panes that separated be from the being. It was a call from the busk of city lights seen through every white storm. It was a holler from the trees that remained tall even when stripped bare. It was a cry from the baskets that cooed the new generation.
Do we step out into this world with our quaking knees? We should not believe that we are weak in life but rather a bard for the souls that lived to tell the tale. How full of life are we all! We felt obligated to live a life only to observe. Yet, we found ourselves taking shorter breaths at every moment we saw the crystallization of the cracks at our window. How beautiful. Our chest ached with a skipping beat. It was neither suffocating nor liberalizing. It was just. How much want could we be able to contain? Frantic with the inability to guard our hearts and minds, we have fallen to our knees, bent over to the cold, white cushion grounds. Our hands grasped the teardrops of the sky that seeped through our nails. We dug deep until we found land, freeing ourselves from the hardened floors. The chilling scent of crispy dew covered by flakes. Our bodies sink into themselves. How freeing.
Brewed without a rage that turned brows furrow and trembling lips that equaled our knees, why had we hidden from a world that asked what we feared: How do you live?
Washington State Mental Health Hotlines and Resources
- 24-Hour Mental Health Crisis Hotline
- Call or Text – 988
- Trevor Project Lifeline: 24-Hour hotline supporting young people who are part of the LGBTQ+ community
- Call – 1-866-488-7386
- Text – 678-678
- Veterans Crisis Line
- Text – 838-255
- Washington Recovery Helpline
- Call – 866-789-1511
- ImHurting Crisis Chat: Serving the North Puget Sound region
- Call – 800-548-3578 (North Sound: Snohomish, Skagit, San Juan, Island & Whatcom Counties)
- Call – 888-910-0416 (Salish: Clallam, Jefferson, & Kitsap Counties)