seasonal depression at nautilus teachings

 

i wake up to gray skies
AGAIN
glance out towards the river
and wonder
how many other people
are suffering
from this
doldrum
this downward spiral
this feeling
of seasonal depression…
all i want to do is cry
i don’t want to look
at my list of the
100 things i need to do
i want to smile
laugh
and go back to my life,
but i can’t,
and for the first time
i feel
a very deep depression
settling in
that not even my dogs
can cure
for even they
seem sad.
i cannot turn on the news.
social media
is even a challenge
because the world
is suffering…
wild fires
hurricanes
and now
earthquake…
what is going on?
what happened to
all the pictures of everyones
children smiling everywhere
or the silly pet pics
people post
not to mention
the shots of all the surfers…
we are all
numb
saddened and feel helpless
we are also
blessed
to not have been
flooded
lost our homes
or lives
to irma…
the sun peaks out
i open the door to
a sauna
and
i
smile….


this is my florida!
sunshine
and heat.
for the first time
since i began
menopause
i say,
‘bring on the heat and sunshine
everyday, Lord…’
within 15 min
the blue
succumbs
to the gray
and droplets
pour down
upon our saturated
island home.
i look out upon the pool
and canal.
i remember
the early morning hours
of september 11th
and the flash flood
on our usually bone dry road
and again
i tremble…
i don’t like feeling this way.
i never have felt this way.
through all the hurricanes
i stayed-
and the count is over 10
i never
felt
this
fear…
d and i know,
it’s mostly our aging.
our bodies don’t quite
keep up with our brains
we have glitches in our systems
and climbing on the rooftop
for 7 days straight
has taken it’s toll…
for over 5 weeks
we have had gloom
hovering above us
with an occasional sunshiny day
we wake thinking its 7
when it’s really 8:30
darkness has been
all encompassing
and this is why
i feel
some sadness…

usually i can paint my way out
but every day,
2-3 times a day,
as i enter my
cape royal building
and greet the team
of workers who have
gotten our building up
and now drying out
as i check d’s voice message
clean a little more of my space
haul his files to his
temporary office
pick up the ones
that need to be billed
and refiled
as i walk down my hallway
and notice they are
starting to put some
fans away
i feel hope…
i unlock the door
and his office shines
from the extreme cleaning
we gave it,
it smells of lavender
and sits
waiting
for
him to come home…
as i unlock my tiny
bali studios door
and see all my colors
and envision
all the ladies
sipping and painting
the kids
in summer camp
calling out
‘miss sheri, miss sheri’
i feel
gratitude…
the gray sky still hovers
today
Marie
is devastating
Puerto Rico
with winds up to 140mph
and we are all
helpless…
we cannot save
any one person.
we can donate
food, clothing, money
we can pray,
but for the most part
the cries of all the people
into the arms of those
they love
as they try to absorb
take in
and accept
the life they know
is gone
as they hold tight
to one another
search for food
and water
any signs of help
as the wind
and rains cease
as they come
together
as small
communities
we,
as the world
must be united
must fight for peace
kindness
acceptance…
tiny slices of blue
are peaking out
from the gray now
my neighbor knocks
and i let him in
so he can fix my three screen doors
which were damaged…
that’s it
three doors
and our
cape royal building …
i did not lose
my life
my home
my pets
my belongings
my everything…
the cavernous upwelling
which has been surrounding me
lifts
breaks up
and i now
feel a weight being lifted…
i wasn’t ever crying
poor me, poor me
i was just feeling like
everyone else i know
here in my tiny beach town
the overwhelming need
to breathe
to calm
and to wake up
without threat
to what God
so graciously left us with –
our lives…