It was two days ago when my SAD came in at a full swing. Seasonal affective disorder, or more common tongue, simply wintertime blues. When I wrote about it years ago in my book, it was one of the most challenging time of my life. As I approach this winter, this emptiness that I feel is not foreign to me, but rather nostalgic. It's been over a decade that I had spend my winter days alone, the familiar scrimmage, rushing from store to store for the perfect present, are now just memories.
I can't say I truly miss those moments, but I can't say I don't either. It is in part a melancholy feeling that is couple with a sense of relief. I have never enjoy the cold. Growing up in the tropics I could weather 100% humidity with asphalt melting heat with ease. But this cold brisk breeze brought more than just physical discomfort, but emotional as well.
These feelings are always easily observed when we see it in others, but seldom easy to see when it is upon ourselves. It is just like middle school, everyone remember what you did and why you did it, except yourself. There is a perk, as Susan pointed out what I already know, "it's good writing material."
It took me a few days, to finally find some voice. I never realize how much writing is an outlet for me, until I wrote my book. It keeps me grounded emotionally. Understand what I am feeling, but more so it is a safe place for me, a place where the social politics - aka bs - can not interrupt me.
I am a country boy at heart. I love the technology, but I would never trade a days luxury in a spa for the wonders of the open road. Yet, I lived the city life since I was 7. It was San Paolo then California, then Maryland. I have always lived in a populated area, where people are abundant and relationships are easily changed as often as one would change thier underwear.
There were times I was taken back, back to a special place. The summer trip when I dated EB and I went up and spent a week at her parents lake house, was perhaps the most memorable of all the events in all my relationships. A place I always wanted to go back to. Sitting in the middle of a secluded lake on the kayak alone, when all things fall silent to my own heart beat. A place where all superficiality is stripped, expectation of social politics fall the way side. It was a place the important things become important again.
I felt very much the same when I took the trip this summer across the country. So it is no surprise when my wintertime sadness hit, my mind drifted far away, 2000 miles away to be exact.
Atop mountains and in deep gorges. It wasn't just a vacation, it was a calling, a feeling that was always there, and no matter how long it stays dormant, the second it is revealed to me, it feels like home.
Anyone who knew me, knows I have been plaque with IBS my entire life. IBS is also very closely link to emotion and stress. The last 5 years had been hellish in terms of my flare up and my health. Sometimes the flare up would last up to 2 weeks, generally it would be 1 week. I took probiotics religiously, I worked out religiously, I watched what i ate, I drink ginger ale when i needed them. Not a day do I not wake up worrying weather my stomach was going to act up today or not. I have learn to cope with my problem over the years to have the least of impact on me. No matter the rigor I always felt some what sickly. I could never gain any weight, or lose any for that matter.
It's been 5 month since the trip, I have had a few flare up that lasted less than a day, but nothing that even bothers me. I felt in better shape than I have ever felt in the last decade. I gained 10 lbs of lean mass from the workout. Just like that I was cured. No pills, no special diet or food, nothing. She text me one day trying to make small talk "how's your health" I didn't respond. Not because I was spiteful, but I didn't want to come off like "everything is so much better now that you are gone." It's not like that, it was never about her. It has and will always be our own depression. My own revelation from years ago, "the greatest war of humanity has been and always will be a spiritual one".
I ridden the new bike quite a bit. To be honest, I love the simplicity over the r1100s. It's what I always envision motor bike would be, raw and simple. But then there is, heated grip, and 2 up comfort. So alas there is a place for both ladies in my life.
I said zfg a lot lately. But I think I just no longer care to stress myself out about other peoples emotional instability. People and I mean in general as always, are often bothered by the fact when you are not bothered by the same thing. They will try to get under your skin, try to get at you so you are on the same page they are, so you are rattle and they feel in control. It is always the ones who think they are educated, and professional who will do such, because it's logical for them and therefore it's logical for you. Because it's about conformity and it's about control. It's self obsessed narcissism. A lifestyle preached by beauracrats SO (self before others). To that I ask, "is this what we want to teach our kids?"
Deep in the Rocky between the time passed and all the dead end road ahead, there lies infinite possibilities for as far as my eyes can see. Maybe it's time to move on, maybe I can, maybe I should.