It’s no secret that I’m no fan of autumn. I’m not shy in letting anyone know that I detest everything about the end of summer and the beginning of fall, but this year I started wondering why that is. What’s wrong with fall? Why do I hate it so much? So I got introspective about it. Scary, I know. 😉
This is a big reason I don’t like fall. Yellow, orange, red, brown. Warm colors that I dislike even when they’re not all over the foliage. And while I’ll admit (grudgingly) that some areas, like the photo above, do look rather nice with those colors, overall I still don’t like them. No matter how they look for the brief time they’re there, they still indicate death. The leaves are dying from lack of sustenance. Dying, y’all. Starved. To. Death. To me, that’s just not beautiful, or inspiring, or awesome, or any other adjective other than sad.
I’m not against hunting. Not at all. I know it keeps animal populations in check (a big necessity), and it provides food for people and takes the strain off their grocery bill. But as much as I understand it and even support those who like to hunt, I still don’t like seeing photos of dead deer with their glazed eyes all over my social media feeds. Or ducks with limp necks. Or whatever the hunters have managed to kill. I’d also rather not have panicked deer running out in front of my car. Another reason that fall equals death to me. If it’s not SEC College Football or the World Series, fall recreation makes me sad.
I hate cold. I don’t just dislike it, I hate it. And I hate it because it hurts. As someone with a chronic pain condition, cold or even cooler weather brings agony in ways you can’t imagine. I’m not talking about an air conditioned house or car. I’m talking about cold, damp weather that clings to clothes and exposed skin, and sinks into the core of your being. No amount of clothing will keep that crap out. And speaking of clothing, once you’re clad for the temperatures outside then you’re set up to be miserable when you enter stores, restaurants, or any businesses you may visit. Then it’s Sweat City, baby, and the hacking cough that comes with overheating. No, you can keep your fall weather. Please. And take winter with it.
Oddly enough, this is the big one for me, the main reason I think that makes me hate fall. Back to school. I know, I know. I don’t go to school. But I used to, and I’m going to admit something I rarely hear anyone admit: I hated school. Hated it with every fiber of my being. Always did. I wasn’t one of those kids excited to start Kindergarten. Nope, I didn’t want to go. That carried over every single year until my last year of college. Just the thought of the quiet of a classroom set my teeth on edge and brought on anxiety. I seriously disliked parent/teacher conferences when my kids were young because I so hated the sounds and smells of a school. One year when money was tight I worked as a substitute teacher. Threw up every morning they called me to work. Gritted my teeth and counted the seconds until I could get the hell out of there, just like I did when I was a student. So the main thing about fall to me was having to go back to school, the most horrible situation I could think of.
So nothing about fall is enticing or pleasant to me since it induces anxiety, physical pain, emotional revulsion, and a stuffy nose which I didn’t even bother to mention above. I know that when fall arrives, winter can’t be far behind with freezing temperatures, frozen precipitation that makes just walking to the mailbox dangerous, and sends cars crashing into each other. No, fall/autumn/whatever-it’s-called is just evil to me. It’s always meant the death of everything pretty, whether it’s plant life, animals, or personal freedom.
I’m sorry, but I’ll never like this season. Give me spring and summer; give me warmth, and sunshine, and pinks and creams and purples, and baby animals, and sand, and swimming, and life. I’ll be huddled over here under a blanket, waiting.
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