I’ve been struggling with my writing for several days. Weeks, really. The summer blues have had a strangling hold on me this year. I had several ideas on how I wanted to approach this month’s blog post. At one point, I wrote out a long piece about suffering from summer depression. It read like a book report on Seasonal Affective Disorder, and it had nothing to do with Halloween. As my deadline came and went, guilt followed, then, the shame of failure set in, and soon, it was hard to write anything at all, not even one of my goofy movie lists.
I belong to a few Halloween groups around the web, wherever I can find like-minded creatures. Halloweenophiles always seem to find each other. It’s nice not to feel the burden of being the weirdo sometimes. It’s a sure bet, the second Halloween merch hits the stores, people post pictures and store locations. We know how to comfort each other, most importantly, we understand why it’s important to do so, no explanation needed.
Sensing the buzz, off I went, in search of Halloween, looking for pumpkins, skeletons, black cats, and any sliver of orange and black. My local Michael’s did not disappoint.
I’ve always loved Halloween and spooky stuff, ever since I was a kid. My family used to go to the drive-in theater a lot. I saw all biggest horror movies of the 70s, including my first movie, Jaws, peaking from the backseat between the armrest. I remember staying up all night, afraid of the shadows cast from little yellow daisy lamp that my grandma gave me for 8th birthday, after watching a highly edited version of The Exorcist on CBS. It would be years before my desensitized eyeballs would watch the film again. It should come as no surprise that my favorite TV shows were The Munsters, The Addams Family, Bewitched, Twilight Zone, and the lesser remembered gem, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Thank the universe for syndicated TV.
Movies and TV became my first love. Eventually, I was inspired to create my own stories, none of which are published…yet.
A mea culpa
I love writing about Halloween and scary stories, but, for the love of Samhain, I still struggle in finding the courage to finish any of them. I can write and release haiku easily enough, but, when it comes to prose…little voices, witches, demons, whatever you want to call them, chatter like little birds. Noisy little birds. Man, I hate birds. I’m a cat person!
There’s a sense of responsibility when you start a blog. It pushes the windows open, allowing for more creativity. I just wish I was more daring, and disciplined. I’d have a lot of stories to share with you, but, all I have are caged birds.
My face is melting
It’s hot. Too hot to think. Too hot to write. It’s hot everywhere, on the west coast, on the east coast, in Europe and the other side of the world. Warm weather breeds discontent. The longing for cool temps and fun-filled days of autumn drives the melancholy to new heights. I suspect that most Halloween fans feel as restless as I do right now.
Maybe we’re always depressed. Maybe we just notice it more this time of year.
I’m not going to tell anyone to hang in there, least of all, myself. Whether we’re sad for the summer or sad all-year-around, the key to our happiness lies inside our willingness to take responsibility for our own thoughts and actions. So, let’s not dull ourselves with video games and shopping, or drugs and alcohol, or whatever destructive vices we can find.
We definitely should be actively seeking out what makes us happy, and if that’s celebrating Halloween right now, instead of waiting until October, then, let’s do it. To hell what anyone says!
As the haunting season grows closer, summer’s end appears on the horizon. Remember, it’s always darkest before the dawn.