Crying In August

I did so much crying in August. I did lots of different of kinds: the kind where you can’t get out of bed and have to remember to drink water at hourly intervals to replenish your vital fluids; the kind where you start sobbing at work; the kind where you weep silently on the bus when a certain song comes on. The kind where you can feel the tears building up behind your eyes over the course of the day and you are living in dread of the moment you know will come when they’ll all just slowly seep out out and you will tilt your head back and blink real hard but there they’ll be, all the same. Also the kind where you didn’t know you were going to cry, you had no prior warning, it just happens and you’re in the middle of the street looking in the window of Recycle Boutique and boom, there you are, sniffling in public.

There are lots of reasons for this crying, as you’d imagine: work and friends and housing, like actual events and issues—and oh dear heaven, the housing, the housing–as well as the kind of dull whine my brain likes to set up after a while, when nothing’s going exactly wrong but nothing’s going exactly right either, and it’s harder to get out of bed, and the winter won’t end, and paying attention to people talking at you seems so unfairly impossible. Every mistake I’ve ever made, every stupid thing I’ve ever said, every choice I wish I could unchoose, rattling, hissing, grumbling in the background, week after week after week after week.

And this August, I don’t know, everything just fell apart, in this very slow, mostly sustainable way. I mean, I’m still employed. I haven’t had to bury any bodies or anything. I just broke down, over the month, except there wasn’t, there hasn’t been, any breaking point. Maybe I’ve just crumbled, or slowly melted, or desiccated. So many things happened one right after the other that nothing really happened. “I’m a bit stressed,” I’ve been saying, or, “Yeah, interesting times.” My boss suggested I take a week off. My face broke out lavishly and I started waking up an hour before my alarm, just to freak out pointlessly in the dark. My stomach started hurting all the time. “Interesting times,” I said to everyone (and there were so many!) who expressed gentle concern.

I started counting my blessings, like actually making lists of all my gifts and privileges. I pulled back from a lot of my social stuff and spent a lot of time reading in bed. I think I probably lost some friends. I tried not to have every single status update be all ‘Chiara is struggling,’ or ‘Chiara is thoughtful’ or ‘Chiara doesn’t really see the point of any of this anymore.’ I went to yoga, sometimes. I drank lots of tea.

Yesterday was the first of September, and the first day of spring in the Southern Hemisphere. It was an appropriately bright and gorgeous day and I took off my cardigan for a while and noticed that it’s really staying lighter later now. There’s even more change and transition coming for me this month—I’m moving, for one thing, so there’s also a lot of expense!—and I’m not expecting everything to just magically be okay. I mean, everything’s still okay, I’m very happy to report, but I’m not expecting any greatness right now. Today’s the second of September, for example, and it’s been absolutely awful, like pouring down rain all day.

I guess I’m just glad that month is over. I’m being a bit drama queeny after all the non-events that didn’t happen, but I don’t care, really, right now. I also don’t care what the rest of this year brings, I’m just glad that I got to get out in the sun yesterday. Everything will be all right, I keep telling myself, everything will be all right.

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  1. Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m thinking of you and hoping things are going better. The evidence is that the sun will come back. And if past experience is anything to go by, in six months you will be having such an awesome time in your new place you will hardly even remember the weepy loss of your current digs.

    I will say hi to the funky pigeons at the Adelaide Royal Show for you, okay?

  2. I double ditto what ginger said, and send you big hugs. Big, big hugs.

  3. Same here. I hope that September is a turning point for you and things start sucking less and, perhaps, even venture over into the land of Good. Sending hugs your way.

  4. From the sounds of the facebook updates it would seem (unless I’m reading in too much!) that a new place has been located – that has got to be a tick in the “good” column! :)

    The sun will return, the cardigans will slowly go back into hibernation, and the socialising and consumption of many lovely foods will occur…

  5. Hey there love… although things like this usually happen to me in the spring, I know what you mean. Bad months suck. I hope that the warmer weather (and your new place, yay!) chase away the gloom and bring you some joy, and that everything begins to turn soon.

    More hugs to you!

  6. No need for disclaimers. You’re not being drama queeny, and it wasn’t a month of non-events. You prevailed, is what happened.

  7. Hey Chiara, I’m sorry to hear last month was such an unrelenting, oppressive drone. Glaciers aren’t wiz-bang, but certainly make their mark. While I don’t listen to Moz nearly as often any more, his words still seem apt in my life several times a day. I’ll pray for you since that’s all I can do and it works for me.


  8. Lost some friends in the process? psih! not you my deer. You who devote so much of your time to the scene with the parties, the high teas, the dinners, the talks. If anything you’ve made those good friend yearn for your company even more :)
    Here’s to new seasons, new beginnings, happy endings and everything in between ;)

  9. Historically August has always been a crappy month for me and I’m always thankful to see it end. I hope with the new month and the new season comes better, less “interesting” times for you.