Friday, January 29, 2010
I live in Pacific Northwest. It's where I was born and raised. I love it for many reasons, its mountains, lakes, and rivers, its forests, and waterfalls. It's beautiful here and I will never leave.
However, we have one of the highest rates of depression in the country and I think it all comes down to the sun. It's gray for months on end, from October until March. That's half the year. And the spring months are touch and go where the sun is concerned. And if you're like me, someone who suffers from depression and seasonal affective disorder, that can make for a rough winter.
I long for the sun. I miss feeling the heat of it beating down on my body. I want to be outside walking, or reading, or just laying. (or is that lying? :) I want to feel sweat dripping down the side of my face. I never complain about how hot it is, because I know the alternative.
It's been poking its head out a little bit lately, but I can't wait until it glows full bore in the sky.
I wrote this poem yesterday. My mentor won't look at it yet, but I'm pretty happy with the way its turned out. (It's almost completely different from the first version of itself, but I may tweak it a bit more)
White hot heat
Humid and inviting.
Filling vacuous voids,
The sinister chasms that
cause eternal downpours
and bone chilling rime.
Not to think or cast shadows
No moss collected
merely flow like the current.
Vivid hues, downy clouds,
fluid and weightless
blissful and tranquil
I wait for the dark to subside.
My Dad. He's awesome.
John Messina, Personal Injury Attorney