Valdoria here, at the beginning of another August and therefore nearly at the end of another year around the sun for me. Strap in or exit now: I'm about to get vulnerable with you.
A lot of people get their seasonal depression in the winter, but for as long as I can remember, I've found the warmer months the most challenging. Since I've moved, the summers have been milder and easier to manage, but I'm still beholden to the shift. Sticky heat triggers a physical discomfort compounded by a bone-deep loneliness: everyone disappears in the summer, living their summer lives.
I suppose I disappear into my summer life, as well, but my disappearance has often involved the pretense of always relishing the solitude. Which is not to say I don't enjoy the solitude sometimes, but more often than not I find myself masking the pain of abandonment. It's a practice that has left me slightly warped. In my isolation, I struggle more with intrusive thoughts and have the tendency to ruminate and lose perspective. Being so dysregulated and feeling unable to convey certain thoughts makes it difficult to return.
But I've learned that remaining isolated makes it easy to conflate self-absorption with self-awareness, and to gain the latter requires context. So lately, I've tried to mitigate this misalignment by engaging instead of retreating.
It helps, I think. But I can't deny the shift still happens. It's confusing what the body retains that the mind does not. Generally speaking, I have little to complain about. But I remain particularly sensitive to some absences, even if on a rational level, I understand their necessity. I think I've sometimes made my own absence felt, but I don't really know it. I appreciate when people tell me I'm missed, but I have difficulty expressing such sentiments earnestly and directly, myself.
There's a difference between intent and impact that takes care to negotiate. While I'm a pretty good songwriter, I'm not always a good communicator.
All this to say that I've spent the past few days swinging between the poles on the spectrum of my well-being. I've put on my extrovert hat, I've enjoyed my time with people. I've also found it difficult to answer the question "how are you?" without opening a flood gate. I'm not doing poorly but I'm not entirely feeling well and I can't say why, and it makes me tired. Or, maybe I can say why but I still don't know that there's anything to do about besides endure until the feeling passes.
I know you all are busy with your vibrant summer lives, but I hope you can find the time to color mine a bit with your presence at one of these events. It really is meaningful and a pleasure to be able to connect with you through my music, and I'm nervous and excited to be playing alongside a host of wonderful talent this month.
