I took a picture of my window view about a month ago, nearing the end of September. The title of the post was meant to be: “Rainy Days.” Looking at this photo now, I realize it really wasn’t as bad as it was going to get.
So yeah, it’s how our world works. I get it. Fall is the season where the world gets darker and we spend more time indoors. Tide goes in, tide goes out, never a miscommunication, you can’t explain that. But damn it, this seasonal depression shit gets worse with every year. The darkness draws the energy out of my body like a sponge.
Tonight is another hard night. My mom called me to ask me how I’m doing. “Fine,” I say. I’m just… sitting around. Listening to Christmas Disco, Vol. 2. “I’m worried about these bills that I’ve been getting. Taxes… healthcare insurance… It’s a couple hundred bucks. I don’t know how I’m going to pay them.”
As I’m talking into my phone, I notice that I can’t hold back the tears. It worries her. And there we go – that which I’d been trying to avoid: having even more people feel bad. Great. She asks me not to cry. I don’t really know what to say, so I tell her I’m okay, it’s okay, I’m going to read a book. I hang up.
I go to my bedroom and take another line. I just want to stop crying. I know it’s not going to help, but not doing it would make things even worse.
There’s really not much I can do, other than hope that tomorrow will be a better day. I figure it won’t be, but hey – what do I know?