Oh pears. Rough skinned, mottled unsightly shaped fruits of the barren tree. Rising above a leafless branch, at least twenty of these golden globes sprout, as an afterthought. Jen's farm land is overrun with bears too, at this time of year I realized as I sat halfway up the apple tree looking down and the huge pile of fruit-poop below me and the claw marks, half eaten apples on the branch in front of me.Fall is a time for joy. A chance to reminisce of a summer past, a chance to prepare for winter. Cooking, family, education. For me, however, Autumn marks the descent into winter. Endless rain, passionate storms, and a biting frost. The ocean will swell and rebel, the fields will flood. We will undoubtedly go broke before December and my Mother will try to call. Tug-of-war with the children and the ex, and finally the heartbreaking need to be accepted over the holidays. My heart beats fast and panicked and I drink too much Irish Cream in my coffee. Constipation.
It's not all bad, this time around. I am now on Rispiridone and Effexor and each day I feel a little more useful in my quest for success in this life. I am balancing, for now. One day at a time. My perfectly patient doctor praises the little things and I will too. I am not the gasping female languidly morbid on my psychiatrist's kidney shaped couch, I am the rallying protester outside the office.
Fire it up, fall is here.
Posts
