For me, winter is no longer a season. It is a state. A state in which it becomes obvious how much tension you have been carrying for months without noticing. When the days get shorter and darkness comes earlier, the opportunity to pretend that everything is fine disappears. The body and psyche begin to speak louder.

After the holidays, this is especially felt. The world seems to suddenly quiet down. There is no more noise, expectations, decorations. Ordinary reality remains - cold, slow, honest. And in this reality, for the first time in a long time, I asked myself the question: why do I constantly demand something from myself?

To be productive. To be collected. To be "normal".

Even when it's hard. Even when exhausted.

This winter I allowed myself to lower the bar. Not as a defeat, but as an act of self-preservation. I stopped forcing myself to get up early unnecessarily. I stopped filling every minute. I allowed myself to be silent, not to answer right away, not to have a clear plan.

And it became scary. Because when you relieve tension, silence appears. And in silence - real thoughts. Fatigue. Sadness. Questions without answers.

But it was here that something important began: for the first time, I did not run away from this state. I stayed in it. And I realized that I had not broken - I had simply not really rested for a long time.