Sometimes, I think I may have seasonal affective disorder. Well, mainly it just centers around one season. I always seem to start feeling down when autumn comes around. I find it a bit unusual, as there is so much that I enjoy about the Fall. I enjoy the colors as the leaves change. The cool weather makes it easier for a fatman like myself to enjoy the outdoors for longer periods of time. I get to revel in the knowledge that I am mowing my grass just one last time this year. College football Saturdays are definitely some of my favorite times of the year.
I actually think college may have a lot to do with my autumnal moodiness. I remember it being a pretty rainy fall when I came to Athens my Freshman year. Grunge was the music of the time, so everyone seemed to have their ample share of what I am sure they felt was well-earned moodiness. I remember so many people wearing loose clothes - baggy jeans, Doc Martins, t-shirt, and flannel were my standard outfit. And while admittedly the most comfortable fashion style in my history, and perhaps ever, it also seemed to help foster a strong sense of just wanted to chill out on the couch, maybe play some Goldeneye, and lose all foreseeable hope for happiness by just listening to Pearl Jam’s “Ten” on repeat. Or maybe you were a Soundgarden or Alice in Chains fan. Also acceptable. That actually does bring to mind the old adage about grunge musicians: Either kill yourself early or live to see yourself grow completely insufferable. And yes, Dave Grohl is obviously the exception to the rule that I am pretty sure I just made up. If not, someone let me know so that I can attribute it properly.
I typically don’t do well in social situations, so it took me a while to get to know the guys on my hall freshman year. I do have to thank the aforementioned Goldeneye for playing such a significant role in that, and I am so glad that it did, because several of those assholes have since become some of my best friends in this world. A good number of them were also fairly forgettable. Some were notable for different reasons and were therefore able to carve out a little spot in my memory. A would-be rap star across the hall who partied loudly through finals week and ultimately left school early that year to pursue his dream. A slightly redneck kid who I remember often made it his goal to try to ruin acid trips. An unusual fellow who only communicated in grunts prior to noon and also had the distinction of first introducing the rest of us to the concept of the booty call. Coming to know these guys throughout the year was a great experience, but I spent most of that fall just quietly keeping to myself, thinking about my girlfriend back home, working in the dining hall, and going to class. The job was my first foray into food services, so as anyone who has worked in this field can confirm, the people were interesting weirdos while the work itself was pretty terrible. The relationship with the girlfriend, which had actually always been a long-distance one, just wasn’t working. It ended with me asking for some time off, her one-upping me the following weekend by saying she was not really down with time-off, and me responding by essentially saying, “well, I guess that’s done…” And classes, as is so often the case, were challenging a lot of the beliefs that I had grown up with. Looking back on it, a lot of things were just…cracking. Maybe the memory of all that discomfort is why fall makes me a little sad.
Fall also has the distinction of being the season in which I lost my first parent. My mother passed away just over a year ago on September 23, 2019. I actually just looked it up and realized that it was the first day of autumn that year. So at this point, I guess I need to say to my beloved mother, thanks a lot for completely ruining an entire quarter of a year, mom. She had been physically sick for most of my life, and she had been doing somewhat poorly the past few years. She had been prescribed some pretty strong pain medication, and she absolutely did not like to be hospitalized. I was worried that the meds might mask symptoms of an illness until they got too severe, and that coupled with her very headstrong desire to stay away from the hospital would probably lead to her demise. Needless to say, every time I parted ways with her over the last few years, whether it was just a visit with her, family vacation, a car ride, or some other get-together, the thought definitely went through my head that this may be the last time I would see her. And of course, eventually it was.
But I am not here to try and ruin your Fall. Misery loves company and all that. Actually, I don’t really know why I am here today. And I am not miserable. I would say it is more like a low grade depression. Melancholy, maybe? It is definitely not infinite sadness, just in case you wanted to think about some more music that makes you want to kill yourself.
Autumn is a season were a lot of visible change happens. The leaves dry up and fall off the trees. Things start dying. Birds pack up their belongings and just flee. Bears start severely overeating in preparation for a long winter’s nap, which basically just makes me jealous on multiple levels. If Spring is birth, and Summer is life, and Winter is death, does that mean fall is like some shitty adulthood when things are just starting to die? Maybe my seasonal affective disorder is just the Autumn constantly reminding me of both the discomfort of change and the inevitability of death. It is probably just complete nonsense, though. Really, what are the odds that a disorder involving low grade depression also just happens to spell out SAD. Ridiculous.
Well, I guess that’s it for today. Honestly, I feel a little better now. Thanks so much for helping me work this out.