⚠️ Content Warnings:
grief, mental health struggles, chronic illness, medical frustration, seasonal depression (reverse SAD), allergy mention, celebrity death (Ozzy Osbourne), general fatigue and overwhelm
Truthfully, I half-expected myself to post one of my drafts today. That’s what they’re there for, after all. Right? -the hard days where my health is killing me, or my mental health is swirling the drain. But it’s Tuesday, and part of me just… wanted to post. Maybe it’s because I wanted to share this beautiful photo of what we’ve lovingly christened the “Harvest Bowl.”
It’s an extra, extra-large semi-flat metal bowl that’s been in the family for as long as I can remember- my grandmother used it to gather vegetables from the garden. Now, it’s what we use to do the same- although someday I keep saying I’m going to get a basket, something prettier, that doesn’t heat up when the weather is 90-freaking-degrees. Yesterday, we filled it with yellow grape tomatoes (thank you, Aunt Dee!), cherry tomatoes, and our first full-sized tomatoes of the year. A few jalapeños made it into the mix, too. More green beans are on the way soon (again, thanks Aunt Dee), and it’s finally starting to feel like gardening season… even if the weird weather’s made everything grow a little wonky.
So far, just a couple of zucchini and yellow squash have come through. The squash bugs are back at it again, and they’re doing a number on my mental health. That mental health, truth be told, has already taken a hit with the whole Cursed Knee Saga™- still no solid answers, but I’m working on getting some second opinions.
I’m also in the process of switching neurologists. Unlike the knee situation, I do have an appointment coming up… which is both hopeful and terrifying. I’m trying to let myself feel both. But, there’ll be more on that as the appointment gets closer, and then probably a full rundown on the situation after it happens because lets face it… sometimes your cryptid just needs to scream into the void. This being that void.
I get like this in the summer. While many people soak up the sunshine and warmth, I tumble headfirst into a kind of seasonal depression- but the reverse kind. The heat brings wasps, hornets, and bees. The fuzzy ones don’t bother me, but the aggressive ones do- and I’m severely allergic. Between that and how my MCAS, POTS, and fibromyalgia make me intolerant to heat (even with electrolytes and careful planning), it’s hard to function. I don’t really come alive again until the fall.
Maybe that’s why I love spooky season so much. It’s when the air gets crisp and breathable again. -and I look killer in fall colors.
And if all that weren’t enough, it feels like all of our favorite celebrities are passing- Ozzy Osbourne included. The grief has been hitting different lately. I don’t want this to come off as whining. I know a lot of us are struggling right now, with our own lives, the world, and the strange loneliness that comes from feeling too much.
So, I’ll leave you with something simple and comforting: a photo of the ratatouille we made. And before you say it- yes, I know it’s not the pretty Pixar-style spiral dish. That dish is called Confit Biyaldi, a refined take on the traditional French peasant dish. But this version? This is the classic kind: chopped, stewed, and mashed with love.
It’s rough around the edges but deeply nourishing. Kind of like me these days.
-Sky, The Crippled Cryptid
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