Sunday, July 31, 2011

Summer Can be a Cruel Season

I have not always been like this. 
In my youth, the word that was most used to describe me was "vivacious".
I could not wait get out of my Mother's womb. I arrived in this world four weeks early.
I wanted to experience everything, anything, all things, everywhere!
I loathed sleeping, preferring to stay awake all night. So much to do and so little time.
Not any more. As Bob Dylan wrote, "Things Have Changed".
When life's party turned into a type of wake after experiencing multiple deaths and setbacks, I started feeling a touch of melancholy in the winter months. February being the worst of it.
To my eyes, the snow's beauty has long been snuffed out. The streets are dingy. Nature appears drab and the body is worn from the cold and ice.
In a twist, a quite different and dramatic melancholy overtook me a few weeks ago.
Where I currently live, this past May, the temperature soared to the upper 90s.  As I write this post, we are now experiencing our 30th straight day of temps over 100+ degrees. 
The weather forecast for the upcoming week predicts 110+ actual degrees.
Truthfully, all I want to do is sleep. 
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

I long for a day that I can stay outside past 9:45 a.m. without feeling heat exhaustion or roasted skin. 
I do not understand this depression, irritability, frustration and helplessness. If it is Seasonal Affective Disorder, this is the wrong season. There is plenty of sun. Too much, in fact.
Perhaps this is where the idea of hell originates?
It seemed to start around the time my beloved dog died from complications of heart disease and a slight heat stroke.
The same week that I found out a favorite cousin had died. 
The same week that I learned of an old friend's death of cirrhosis.
Alcohol can be a source of comfort, even joy, but alcoholism is a special evil that I do not understand fully. And cirrhosis is not a "pretty" way to die (is there such a thing?).
When I discovered another loved one's death from cirrhosis, I was horrified to learn of the terrifying decline that cirrhosis delivers so cruelly. I had no idea of the end results of the affliction.
So, I sit alone with my monkey mind. 
Still trying to figure out the meaning of life. 
Still trying to figure out the meaning of death.
I have spent more time thinking than living!
No wonder I am depressed.....and it is too damned hot to drink!
Live and love today, as there is no guarantee of tomorrow.

In Love, Truth and Beauty....

This post is dedicated to Lea, Justin, Guy and Frank.

Image Courtesy of Wikipedia

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