Hey! Who Turned Out the #@%! Lights!

Autumn came and pushed the summer sun away, and I was plunged into darkness.

It happened while I was visiting my sister. It was a great winter visit and I was in love with my niece and nephew. But a few days before I was to leave — Boom! — it fell and anchored me to the bed. I asked my sister to take the kids to a baby sitter that day because I couldn’t deal with them. I couldn’t deal with anything except head under covers in a darkened room. True, I was being treated for depression, but the antidepressant, an SSRI, that had worked so well suddenly abandoned me. And that’s how I felt. Abandoned. I  saw fear in my sister’s eyes. She’d never seen me like this. It went on like this for two days, and I couldn’t leave when I’d planned. Pack! Forget it. I could barely brush my teeth.

In my darkness I remembered my doctor’s advice that I find practitioner who specialized in light therapy. This was not the first autumn/winter that an antidepressant had failed me. A few winters before that I did nothing but work, eat, sleep, and I did manage to take care of my cats, but not my beautifully lush plants, and when late spring arrived, I discovered that they were dead and as crisp and the Cheez-Its (R) I had been stuffing my face with. I made my way to my sister’s computer, found a site that sold light therapy products, and ordered a light box and a book on SAD, seasonal affective disorder, for myself. But Wait-There’s More-Click Here!

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Weekly Writing Challenge: A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words

“They say a picture is worth a thousand words, right? Prove it! This week’s challenge couldn’t be simpler: tell a story based on this picture. You can take this in whatever direction you’d like. Write some fiction. Who are these people? What’s their backstory? What’s going on in this picture? What happens next? Construct a history for us. Write from your own experience. Do one of these people remind you of someone you know, or of something that’s happened to you? Connect the dots for us. Go on a flight of fancy. Who knows what pops into your head when you take a look? Grab the first thing and go with it! We’ll tell you the truth behind the photo in next week’s challenge post, but we’re sure it won’t be nearly as interesting as what you come up with!”

Greg, Dad and Me circa 1951

Yes, that’s our dad holding our hands. My mom took this photo. I’m three. My brother’s five. Greg. I’m Anne. My neck was sweating between the coat collar and the bonnet. Itchy, really. Greg’s cap is hiding a bad, homemade haircut that my mom gave him. What? Oh no, we weren’t angry, just serious. We were a loving serious family that day about to go to church. Mom’s wearing a lovely royal blue dress with light pink trim around the collar and long cuffs, a matching trapeze coat and low black heels. She was, as my dad used to say, “a real looker.” She had to put her pocketbook down because it was making her arm shake and interfering with the photograph she was trying to take. Then she and my dad switched places, and he took one of her, me and Greg. I don’t know what happened to it. Too bad. It pains me. I ought to have both photos.

If photographs reflected reality, not just as a snapshot of a moment, but as ongoing reality, I would be the only one in the photo. An absurd take on Dorian Gray.

What happened.

What happened?

Well… Continue reading