I do not believe in miracle cures…from dieties or diets or doctors. Perhaps though, California might provide just such a thing. Whether it’s family or travel or the sight of water or a few days of steroids…I have definitely broken out of covid prison. Haven’t woken up in a state of deep depression for three day (okay so my morning mournfulness only lasts a little while, nevertheless I was very tired of months of it).
I’ve been in Visalia with grandchildren and son Scott. Chatting, laughing, eating, lounging…a perfect way to spend a birthday. Now back in San Diego, resting up for Black Mountain, shopping, and a beach-walk before returning renewed, restored, revitalized…a whole bunch of re- words. It, in fact, is remarkable how much better I feel.
Reading everything about depressions stemming from pandemic life, I’ve maintained some skepticism. Asking myself what I have to be personally unhappy about with healthy family and friends, a job that probably will return someday, future travel, the Sleaze gone from the White House, etc. I’ve moved to a new house and completed a book. ‘I have no right to feel sorry for myself when there are so many around the world in dire straits,’ I’ve said. But I guess, deep down, rational gratitude couldn’t overcome unwarranted melancholy. But NOW….
Some photos then…