Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

I remember a car ride with my parents. I'm not entirely sure how old I was. Middle school aged, I believe. My father commented on how, in about a week or so, the clocks would move forward, and it would stay light out later into the evening hours. I always tried not to really listen to my parents' conversations in the car, or at least not let on that I was. But this time, for some reason, I blurted out in response "How depressing." I believe this may have been the first time I ever expressed that out loud. I've never cared for spring, and especially not summer, even in childhood. Even when I didn't realize I was doing it, I was always searching for Halloween, in everything around me. And what is more reminiscent of Halloween, in the treacherous off-season, than bare trees, dead leaves, and darkness?  Putting my aversion to warm weather and sunlight aside, spring comes along and breaks the illusion. It's hard to get lost in the memory of trick-or-treating, o...

 I can't remember the last time I went for a walk before today. It may actually have been Christmas Day, as I was sick for most of January and the earlier part of February. That strange period of time when last Halloween is so close, yet so far Today I set out, on my usual route, half happy to have the time, energy, and daylight to finally go off in search of inspiration once again, and half annoyed at the sunlight in my eyes and the knowledge of the imminent boss battle ahead of me, as it's already starting to feel like summer and it's not even officially spring. It felt strange, in a way, to be walking that way again, after so long. On my last walk, I felt the strange melancholy of a post-holiday world, combined with the Christmas facade falling away. I was standing on the borderline of autumn and winter, while today I almost felt as if I were walking the plank between winter's pirate ship and spring and summer's endless ocean.  Memories of autumn flooded me, as I...

  It's September 9th and I've spent the day depressed. Yesterday was my birthday. I briefly think about the fact that when I was younger, on the internet, I always said my birthday was the 9th rather than the 8th, because back then, giving out personal information online was a terrifying idea.  It's funny how things change. My birthday this year, well, it was a disaster. And that had everything to do with how hot and sunny it was.  I've never considered myself a summer baby. September is fall, whether it's the 1st or the 30th. The last stepping stone on the way to October; one of two months that truly feels similar to it. September the Hopeful, and November the Mournful.  But I guess this year, Mother Nature just had to tell me I was wrong. I won't forgive the demon summer for striking me down on what was supposed to be my special day. Seasonal depression can only be endured for so long. Tonight, though, I step outside, and the wind picks up. It sounds like a ho...

  I don't think I ever understood the world's obsession with spring. Perhaps it's because I've always found new beginnings ominous, as opposed to exciting. You could say I'm averse to change. But then, autumn is a time of change as well, isn't it? Regardless of the reason, I never understood what is so exciting about baking sun and bright skies. Or how the flowers, in shades of pink, purple, yellow...or the green grass and leaves, for that matter, were supposedly more beautiful, more inviting, than the explosions of different shades of orange against a spooky gray sky.  Most people want to fast forward to this time of year, but I wish I could fast-forward through it. Spring and summer...what is so lovely to the rest of the world, is a time of physical and mental exhaustion for me. It's a strange thing, when I really think about it. The countdown to Halloween is longest in the winter months, as the clock resets. We cling to the memories of last Halloween, so ...

 A few days ago, I made a post on Instagram talking about how my summer depression made an event I had been looking forward to attending, difficult for me. (You can find the original post  here .) The next morning, I started getting a barrage of direct messages from someone who was completely flabbergasted, and seemingly downright offended  that a person could experience any sort of negative emotion during wonderful  summer. This was, as you can imagine, a very irritating experience for me. I do not appreciate anyone invalidating anyone else, especially as it relates to mental health struggles. As a result, I started posting a little more about the summer strain of Seasonal Affective Disorder (also known as SAD) and have since been receiving very positive responses, particularly from people that have been feeling this way for years but were never able to put a name to it before. Raising this awareness has brought me a lot of joy over the past few days, and so I thoug...