Saturday morning. No early start, no work, no stress. The only jam today will be on toast. No alarm and no surprises. Well at least until I pulled back the bedroom curtains.
I had woken up to a cascade of white worry. The garden had been stolen and replaced with a glaring, crystalline carpet of frozen melancholy. All colour and shape had been removed. The front window reveals a similar view. The road and pavement were indistinguishable, and the flakes of torment showed no sign of slowing down.
It’s the same whenever it snows. Everything I know is concealed and the world is unrecognisable, strange and hostile. It throws me and leaves me confused, dizzy and, as always when I have no control over things, angry and even a little bit frightened. All I want now is to see ice turn to slush and white turn to black as tarmac reappears and things get back to normal.
Chionophobia is a genuine fear of snow. I don’t have that on any level. I’m not scared of it, and I do enjoy sledging with the kids. It is simply the weirdness it brings which is so hard to explain. Life becomes very different as nature is seemingly smothered. Outside smells different and sounds different. The cold bites and the snow burns. All the senses are assaulted as sunlight rebounds off frosted surfaces forcing you to squint.
The ground is slippery and crunches underfoot. Driving on icy roads is something I always dread having had several near misses. Travelling through falling snow reminds me of the Millennium Falcon entering hyper drive. To make it worse I can’t even get out for a run which is my usual stress buster.
Dealing with any change is hard but I think that change caused by the weather is especially tricky as we have no control over it. We cannot prevent snow from accumulating or speed up the melting process and it’s the not knowing that I find hard. When will it be gone? Is more on the way? How bad will it get? Meanwhile I’m being pestered to build another bloody snowman.
PIBLOKTO
Goose feather cascade. A tumbling flurry of para-trooping pixies. Intent on causing chaos with minds made on making mischief. The powdered streets and dusted trees are nothing but deception. Although I know, so I give snow the frostiest reception. This situation isn’t usual when expectedness is covered With an icy cloak which chokes my throat. I feel I’m being smothered. I seek all of my hidden norms. Confused, alone and frightened. Frozen with anxiety - the coloured world is whitened.
Red-cheeked children gasp in awe. A pristine festive scene. It doesn’t feel like Christmas though, it’s more like Halloween. The greenest fields are all concealed, and every view is altered. Heartbeat into overdrive as senses get assaulted.
Each flake weighs a ton or more, crashing down upon the floor. Relentless blizzard, still there’s more. Pray to soon hear Aslan’s roar. Please terminate this tundra torment, end hibernal curse. Will it be the snow or me which you’ll see melting first?
My autism definitely makes me anxious, but it seems that I am far from alone in my winter worry land. A survey has shown that one in six Brits become anxious as it gets colder. Shorter days and longer nights play a part along with the worry that the heating will break down or a pipe will freeze. Many people suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and Anxiety UK have some useful resources and an excellent factsheet which you can find here: https://www.anxietyuk.org.uk/anxiety-type/sad/
For advice on driving snow and ice: https://www.rac.co.uk/drive/advice/winter-driving/driving-in-snow/
Comentários