The Awumbuk Blues

 

      My seasonal affective disorder kicks in earlier than most, usually around mid to late August. As soon as I see backpack clad kids on Facebook (Zoe’s first day of first grade! Zach’s first day of his last year!), I get this sinking feeling. Ugh, summer’s over, even though we technically have another month. When I was a kid, we didn’t start school until after Labor Day, which makes more sense. At least let us enjoy all of August.  Then there’s the cooler nights (a blessing to some, I know, but bring on all the heat for me), and the sun setting just a tad earlier every evening. NOOOO! Soon it will be dark at 4:30. Worst of all, and don’t hate me for this, is the sound of pre-season football on the restaurant and bar TVs.  I'm not a fan, only because it’s boring and it reminds me of winter.  Nothing against the players or sport, it’s just not my cup of tea. Football means it’s getting cold, and I will have to start wearing complicated clothes- vests, bulky sweaters, scarves, and gloves I always lose.  God forbid I put on a down coat, but sometimes it’s inevitable. My Dad and I used to always joke about how fast summer goes. How we wait months and months for the cold to end, and in Colorado it sometimes snows right up to Memorial weekend. Then in June we finally can get the pool ready for Father’s Day, my birthday, and the fourth of July. But after the fourth, Dad and I look at each other and say, “Summer’s almost over”. July goes by like a flash of lightning in all its 90-degree glory, and then it’s August, and Zoe and Zach are headed back to school. 

     I’ve learned that the people of New Guinea have a word for this sinking feeling. It’s called “Awumbuk”. Technically it refers to the loneliness people feel after a house guest leaves, but it can also refer to the letdown we feel after a fun event-like summer, or a great party or vacation. You may ask how I know about this word, and will probably be surprised to know that I read about it in Science magazine. I am not one to read things about science, but my boyfriend had dog-eared an article for me about immune system defense. After reading that piece, I turned the page and saw this fascinating article about the Baining People of Papua, New Guinea and their delightful and accurate word. It’s not depression or sadness or even grief we’re feeling, it’s basically a social hangover.  Kind of like how I felt after my wedding reception. I’ve learned it’s very common for brides to feel “Awumbuk” (I’m not sure if I’m using it right in the sentence-is it an adverb or an adjective? I have no idea).  It makes a lot of sense if you think about it.  We plan and plan and plan every tiny detail for an entire year-from the color of the bridesmaid dresses (which always turn out frumpy anyways), to the needless table settings, the flowers (note to self: do not pick gerbera daisies again, they wilt too fast), making sure the invitations are groovy and not too formal, hiring just the right band (which I did-alt country with a touch of rock and roll), greeting every single one of the 175 guests, feeling like a princess for a day with everyone we love gathered in one spot-and then it’s abruptly over. We wake up the next morning, not even remembering the event, with that back to reality Awumbuk feeling. Even though we are supposedly married to the love of our lives and embarking on a brand new future, it’s still kind of a disappointment.  I felt Awumbuk-y for at least a month after that special day, but maybe because I had a feeling the marriage wouldn’t last (and it didn’t, but it was fun while it lasted).  I also get that feeling after a stellar vacation, so much so that I’m tempted not to travel anymore. It’s the re-entry adjustment period that’s difficult. What, I have to work for a living? My job is one that when I vacation no one does my work (the perks of being self-employed), so there are a million little fires to put out upon my re-entry. And I think we all feel Awumbuk-ish after the holidays, especially because it’s January and there is absolutely nothing to look forward to except dreariness for the next few months. 

     So, what do we do with this feeling? The New Guinea people set out water bottles after their house guests leave to absorb the sadness. Me, I sleep for about a week, then adjust to the new normal; i.e.-work, no vacations, freezing cold for the next 6-8 months, and finding things to do that might bring me a teeny weensy bit of joy. That means binge-watching Offspring or The Handmaids Tale for the umpteenth time (yes, the Handmaid’s Tale gives me a dark kind of pleasure), practicing the guitar nonstop hoping one day I will be as good as Bonnie Raitt (ha), going to hot yoga instead of long mountain hikes, and then crying myself to sleep every night, praying for an early summer.  And sure enough, late March finally rolls around with a few flower blossoms, a hint of warmer days (even though it’s snowstorm season), and clocks moving forward. I’ll still suffer from that Awumbuk feeling for a couple of months, and even when summer is upon us not every day is rosy, but it’s my happiest time of year.

     For those of you, like me, who have the end of summer blues, remember that it has this fun and funky name: Awumbuk, and the feeling will eventually pass and you will adapt.  Oh, and follow my blog for more helpful advice on how to deal with life’s struggles. 😊

 

Peace, Love, and Namaste,

 

Sunnie