seasons that creep up behind


Typically not my cup of tea.

Last summer (2012) was productive and nice until a crashing tragic halt, the summer before that confusing but Somewhat re-empowering; but all I can remember of The Junes is that they had clear warning signs I did not heed.

Junes are usually a month of crescendo into a fairly sweet-but-odd lull of calm-before-IT in July.

Then August, the month I lost my mom. And then it goes ever afterward. The month from hell. June always foreshadows this, for me. It’s a month that tells me “watch your back, kid.”

Septembers are weird, and lately I don’t know about Denise New Year either (October 1). It was bad this year. Maybe because the August of 2013 was not so bad. Depression came in September.

In general, although personally productive, last few years have been kind of Alone-ly. It’s what happens when you grow up. Maybe.

I tend to negatively self assess. Say I am “bad” at things. Bad at June, unaware of July, miserable at coping with August… Stupidly unprepared for Septembers …

Maybe next June it’ll be different. I’ll see I’m going around the same lifetracks, the same patterns … again.

I’ll notice there is another path. That when the same thing happens in exactly the same way, that’s called Insane.

It’s a trap. And I have to break it. I have to board a different spaceship. No one knows which one but me. It’s mine.

And the one thing I can trust from the last little while, perhaps, the one consistent thing that can show up each day – is knowing my sanity will return to me.

So perhaps I should start calling myself by better adjectives. Because after all, I am still here.

I am me. And nothing will change the fundamentals of Me.

seasons that creep up behind

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