Time Of The Season

Well, it’s happening—the change in the angle of the sun’s light that is so subtle that very few people notice it. I am one of those people. It’s not affecting my moods, I’m just more aware of the shift than most. The weather still gets hot, but it takes a little longer to reach the hot part of the day and it doesn’t stay quite as warm, quite as long as it did a couple of weeks ago.

We haven’t had much of a summer, anyway. It’s hit 90+ degrees on only eight days, and most of the time we’re in the 70s or low 80s. It’s pleasant enough, but there have been too many clouds for my taste. I live for summer every year, so I feel kind of deprived. Hopefully we’ll have a heat wave or two before fall arrives next month, but then, that’s only MY hope—the rest of the family likes it cooler.

Speaking of family, I’m having a great time visiting with my daughter, Mindy, who’s been staying with us for the past two weeks. She is figuring out her life in her inimitable manner, going right for what she wants with no muss, no fuss. She is a remarkable woman who’s been through the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan both as a soldier and as a civilian contractor, and only now am I learning of what she really had to deal with during her deployments. She had always emphasized to me that she was perfectly safe in her control tower on base; now I’m finding out how dangerous it really was over there. I’m so glad I didn’t know. But she’s also chock full of funny stories about her adventures, and I love her resourcefulness (ever try to drive away jackals with a BB gun? She has). It’s such a gift, to have a daughter like her. I will miss her desperately when she leaves next week to move to Minnesota, of all places. She’s found a job that pays well, bought a car, and even has a house picked out. So life is going her way again, and I’m so happy for her. She rocks!

Then there’s the issue that has caused a great deal of stress in the family, and it’s not going to end anytime soon. Thanks to the distraction posed by my daughter’s visit, the anxiety has been down to a dull roar, but every week something different happens and it just ratchets up my distress that much more. I’m sleeping OK but my slumber is filled with distressing dreams that make me almost as tired as if I’d done what I dreamt about. Most of the nocturnal festivities have to do with working in the hospital and the patient I didn’t know I had till the end of the shift, which is my default dream when I’m under pressure. I also dream about my kids being in trouble with the law, and recently I’ve experienced my first two nightmares about Will. In both, he told me he didn’t love me anymore and left me. I’ve never had those kinds of dreams in all the time since he’s been gone, but given everything that’s happening—plus the recent anniversary of his death—it’s easy to figure out where they came from.

Yes, this has been a strange summer, and it’s not over yet no matter what the weatherman says. Ben and Clint were supposed to be on a cruise right about now, and they had to cancel due to what’s going on. (I wish I could come right out and share, but this is something I can’t discuss until it’s resolved, and perhaps not even then if things don’t go our way.) We’re still scheduled to go in March; only time will tell if we can make that trip. I hope so, because that’s when I’m sick to death of winter and need some warmth and sunshine.

In the meantime, I continue to hang in there and try to navigate my way through this miasma of suck. (Forgive me for sounding pretentious, but I’ve long been fascinated with the word miasma and I finally got a chance to use it. Huzzah!) What else ya gonna do?

Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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