About Me

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Hello! I'm a writer from central New York who has bipolar disorder. Among other topics, I write about mental illness and writing. I have short stories published in Lynx Eye, Lost Coast Review, The Outrider Review, Sliver of Stone Magazine, The Mondegreen, The Linnet's Wings, Cobalt Review, Breath & Shadow, The Round Up, Postscripts to Darkness, and several other journals. I have essays about mental illness in The Ram Boutique and Amygdala Literary Magazine, and an essay in Parts Unbound: Narratives of Mental Illness & Health, a book that was published by Lime Hawk Literary Arts Collective. In December of 2016, The Mondegreen nominated my story "Santa Lucia" for the Pushcart Prize. I've written a novel entitled Purple Loosestrife and a novel entitled Hoping It Might Be So, both of which I am submitting to agents and publishers. I'm working on a novel called Dark and Bright as well as a book called Violets Are Blue: Essays About My Bipolar Life. I have a B.A. in English from SUNY Buffalo and an M.A. in English from SUNY College at Brockport. I hope you enjoy your visit to my blog!

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Spring Blues

Some people have seasonal affective disorder, and I would guess that most of those people have trouble when winter comes and they live in a climate where winter is long and cold and dark. Well, I have the flip side of this. I live in central New York where winters are long and cold and dark, and summer is like a precious gem that you only get to keep for a short time. And yet, I tend to have trouble when the days get warmer and longer and closer to that precious gem of summer. I'm more prone to feeling down or depressed in the spring.

I love living in New York state because I love all four seasons and the fact that they change discernibly from one to another. But oddly, spring is difficult for me. It's as if my brain has to adjust to more light, more time outside in warmer temperatures. And when winter comes, I'm more apt to feel hypomanic or manic. Winter doesn't make me sad, but spring is somehow wistful.

I'm sure some of this is just because of the vagaries of my bipolar brain. It may be biochemical. More light and warmth, and my neurotransmitters get weird. But some of it seems to be the season itself. Spring is so beautiful that it makes me a little sad. Maybe it's because the beauty doesn't last. Sometimes I think it reminds me of childhood and those early days of getting to play outside and how I miss them.

So what do I do about this? Aside from using the dialectical behavioral therapy skills I've learned, or calling my psychiatrist if things get really tough, I exercise outside as much as possible and I garden. And when I garden, I don't use gardening gloves that often because I like to feel the soil and the plants. I love finding earthworms and lady bugs and garden spiders--all good luck creatures, I believe, and I need them in the spring.

2 comments:

  1. I get depressed with a spring like we've had this year. I love being able to move and get dirty when I play. Spring gives me that chance. To enjoy the start of all the spring flowers, and then the chance to plant for summer flowers and veggies. It gives me peace. With the flooding and constant rain, I get angry because I feel mother nature takes all that away from me-which leads me to get depressed because I am limited in the winter with moving around outside with my herniated discs and arthritis in my back.

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    1. This has been a tough spring so far, Brenna. Hopefully the weather will soon improve.

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