In a Cauldron of Color with a Colorless Mind

It has been a month since I blogged. That sounds like the beginning of a Catholic confession doesn’t it?  And in a way it is.  I mentioned at the very end of the last blog that I seemed to be slipping back into my own version of SAD.  In my case I don’t think it has anything to do with light or the lack of it, but with heat. Cooler days at the end of August in New England have me all primed for my favorite season, fall, and yet when I come back to Texas I find myself in summer again. Can that make a person go over the edge?  In my case, I would have to say yes, for this is, eh gad, maybe the third time it has happened. If there are any PH.D students out there looking for a research topic, I can be your willing victim.

The very odd thing is, I was going right back to the Northeast for my husband’s reunion at West Point, and then he would leave and I would go on to ME and grandchildren and friends in NH, MA and RI.  Nothing but joy should have been coursing through my veins.  The world WAS a cauldron of color. I was there from the scarlet of red maples that line the highways, to the flaming sugar maples, all the way to late October and beech trees that seem to glow with their own inner light. Beautiful.  

 Yet the colorless mind didn’t budge.  Bless the friends that put up with me, bless my grandchildren who are too young to notice Nona wasn’t quite the same.  That may be because it seems the extrovert inside will rise to the occasion when children are involved.

Back home again and the unsettled, go in circles, accomplish nothing, mode of living continued.  Within days I found out that my fractured tibia still hadn’t healed and I would need surgery.  Which I just had two days ago.  Now I had a theory that maybe going under sedation would be like rebooting a computer and I would arise well.  Well, it almost feels that way.  So many kind friends have been praying for me, and I did finally find a Doctor who could at least explain what is happening, more or less.

She told me depression is the mind shutting down to take care of survival things only, no time to fritter looking at birds or calling friends.  So perhaps if I could convince my brain that, no there is not a saber tooth tiger in the room, we could get back to the frivolous part of life where joy is found.

My hope is then that I will return to a more normal me.  My goal is to at least be able to limp by Christmas, to take the dog for walks again, and to have eyes to see the beauty, the glory of God that so often surrounds me

So indeed, it was a confession. Maybe with that out of the way I will be able to write about nature again.  We had 6” of rain the other day-yippee and who knows, maybe that will set up a spring flower season to beat the band.  Oh, but it isn’t spring is it? It’s fall. Well, it still may make for a grand spring.   Just the fact that I can think that might mean the colorless mind is getting some new tints in it again. I hope so.