Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

I50 days until Halloween. It's ironic, in a way, that this last leg of the journey is the hardest for me.  I look out the window and see the blinding sun shining on the green leaves, as people walk past in tank tops and flip flops and the lake across the street glimmers in its beautiful, painful way, and I feel further now from Halloween than I did as I left Sleepy Hollow in the late morning hours on November 1st. 150 days, and it feels heavier, longer, than 364. Summer depression is not easy. Hearing about how "gorgeous" it is outside in reference to the weather that drains me physically and mentally, makes me feel more invisible and unimportant than I did in my high school years. The constant bleating of Stop rushing the seasons!   as soon as a pumpkin dares appear on a store shelf, when "rushing the seasons" is the only thing keeping me going, makes me feel like I don't matter. I realized, recently, that a person with summer SAD longing for fall, is no di...

 Much of this year has felt eternal to me. I'm not entirely sure why. But on some level, it's felt like Halloween was never going to come around again. I have theories as to why things have felt so long and hopeless, most of them having to do with my own schedule, and seasonal depression now on top of it. Whatever the feeling was, it was scary for me. Like being a trapped animal. But, yesterday afternoon, I went for a walk. That is a rarity for me these days as the heat intolerance connected to my summer SAD seems to be getting worse by the day, but after a rainstorm and some Halloween shopping, I was feeling pretty decent.  And, possibly for the first time since 2024 began, I could feel it again. The final leg of our journey to Halloween.  I looked around at the yards I was passing, and could almost see the Halloween decorations, where they will be standing once again. My old friends who visit me once a year. I miss them; their comfort. But, for the first time since last...

This past week, as I've watched the Easter displays in stores disappear, I've felt the heaviness of the end of a holiday, more than I usually do. I don't do much to celebrate Easter anymore...to me it's more of a children's holiday, celebration-wise, what with the egg hunts and Easter Bunny lore and all, but I do feel a great deal of nostalgia when I think about it. This past season was eye-opening for me when it comes to the impression Easter made on me as a child, realizing how many memories I have attached to it, though I doubt it could ever be a favorite holiday ever again, at least in the traditional sense. Was I sad to see it end after the wave of nostalgia it brought me? Of course. But that also doesn't mean that I can't still think about those things now. It's long been established that living life by a calendar is absolutely beneath me.  I've realized, now, though, watching the displays get taken down and torn apart and built back into somet...

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...

  It’s truly a strange feeling to look at something and think “I can’t wait to watch you die.” But yet, as the Gregorian months of April and May drone on, propelling us closer to summer with every passing hour, as the leaves emerge and everything becomes an endless sea of green, lightly peppered with other colors that seem manufactured even if they aren’t, that is all I can think. I can’t wait to watch them die. Green leaves are so boring. And the world is so green in the spring. It seems like the decor of a minimalist, married to one color scheme, clean but blah . And I am anything but a minimalist. I don't understand why spring and summer are considered so beautiful; why they make people seem to feel so alive.  I can't wait to watch them die. As I look up at the thick, green leaves, remembering a restaurant I frequented as a child that was built to look like a rainforest, I start to picture them in all sorts of vibrant hues of orange, yellow, red, even brown. I can't wait...

  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 ...

  Sometimes, the coming of autumn feels like a faraway dream. One that can never be truly realized, much like falling in love with a fictional world. It feels tangible, yet not, at the same time, when the world is blanketed in snow, or scorching with the heat of summer.  You remember autumn existing, but does it? You wonder. It feels so far away, like it happened, but didn’t. Like some fuzzy dream of something that could have happened, but seems too perfect to have been real. Summer does its best to destroy any hope of that beautiful dream existing again. The stifling heat overtakes the world like an ominous shadow, draining the life out of everything. Every task feels exhausting as the sun burns through another day, burning our energy, burning our eyes. It feels like a perpetual headache; this constant persistent heaviness over your day, your life, that feels like it will never break. You think of the pumpkins from your beloved dream of autumn, and how they wilt and wither at...

 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...

 Memorial Day has passed on the Gregorian calendar. Halloween is now less than 150 days away. Soon, we will start seeing decor in stores, and feel the shifts in the air as more and more people start to think about  and plan out their Halloweens.  But, sadly, there is another thing that happens during this time of the calendar year. The inexplicable species known as “summer people” come out of the woodwork and start whining that autumn people should “STOP RUSHING THE SEASONS!!!!” , as if it’s some horrible crime not to enjoy sweltering hot weather and blinding sun. As if it’s a crime to enjoy and look forward to something that takes a long and painful year to make its way back to us. No one, not even those inexplicable summer folk, should have to feel like like they’re in the wrong for looking forward to something. Throughout my entire life, autumn and Halloween have been my salvation. There are probably many things that I wouldn’t have made it through, if it hadn’t been f...

  Summer is the angry flame of a million discarded Jack O'Lanterns.   So many of us wither and die, but there are many of us that survive.  Perhaps 'survive' is too strong of a word, but we continue to exist. Rotting. Fading. But holding on for the promise of a new October.  The wait is long and hard as we waste away on porches or in abandoned woods. We know our time will come again, but it never seems to get here.  We relish in what we can find in the interim; the little scraps we can salvage. The cold, ghostly silence of winter. The spring breeze that's not too much warmer than fall's, if you close your eyes.  But by summer, we are tired. We have grown weary of waiting, and we're tired of the pain that the change of seasons continues to bring. It is but a single step away. So close we can taste it. So near we can almost smell the air.  The heat is excruciating; the sun beating down upon us as if trying to force us into some type of submission. Is ev...