I promise I’ll post something less melancholy one of these days, but post-Halloween depression and the end of the autumn season bring about the more solemn memories of spooky seasons gone by. I’m not sure when I first really started recognizing my post-Halloween depression and acknowledging how it affected me. I think it was somewhere in my pre-teen years, probably around middle school age. However, there was always some part of me fighting to keep Halloween alive in the off-season. I truly have no idea why I never kept decorations up year round in my bedroom when I was younger. It wasn’t until my early twenties that I even considered this an option. I don’t think anyone would’ve taken issue with me keeping some plastic pumpkins on display in my own space all year round, especially considering that at some point, as a toddler, I’d gotten so strangely attached to an Easter lamb window cling, that my mother allowed me to keep it in my bedroom window until it dried out too much to st...