Melancholy

The mornings have a distinct chill to them and our evenings feel shorter. Grady has completed his first week back to school and pumpkin spice everything abounds. There’s no denying it; we’re saying goodbye to summer.

I’m not a huge summer fan if we’re talking about the stereotypical summer things. I don’t love being hot all the time, I hate that when it rains during summer the air turns heavy and sticky and unbearably humid, I’m not big on camping or beaching or whatever it is you outdoorsy folks do during the summer months.

But I can’t ignore the melancholy that settles in my bones mid-August. This year was more difficult than usual. Old hurts, fresh hurts, the acknowledgement that my kids are freaking rad human beings and I won’t always get to hang out with them the way I do now, short tempers I’m ashamed of, weird envy of the outdoorsy folks for experiencing something so outside my current realm of possibility, an overwhelming feeling of not enough time / energy / undivided attention. The last month or so has been odd. I’m not unfamiliar with feeling all the feelings, but this is getting ridiculous even for me.

I’m not sure how to banish the ennui, or if I just need to ride it out until it disappears on its own, but my hope is that by naming it I can at least get myself in the right frame of mind to move forward instead of just spiralling in the gloom. I welcome any and all suggestions, especially if those suggestions include chocolate and buying cute notebooks and colourful pens.

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