Anhedonia

It’s hot outside. A beautiful Indian Summer. You can tell Autumn’s coming though, because the mornings are cold and misty, and it gets dark much earlier in the evenings. Things are definitely changing.

Normally I really like this time of year. Everyone’s back at school and I can enjoy the peace and quiet again – really appreciate having the house back to myself during the day. This lull in the weather before it all starts to get worse makes everything even nicer.

It’s not quite like that this year for me though, and actually it never will be again. I have another three weeks of list-making, and shopping and organising, and then they’re both off to university; right now we’re in a kind of limbo. When October comes around, I’ll have all the peace and quiet in the world.

I have some plans. I’m going to sell this house for a start, and I want to begin writing properly, so there’s plenty to do, but it’ll be odd - I’m not sure how it’s going to feel. I don’t really know where I’m going to go, or what’s going to happen next.

Things are changing for him too. Not the weather: I think it’s still over a hundred there most days, which isn’t as bad as it sounds, because everyone in Tucson has air conditioning – you couldn’t really exist without it. It’s so hot that they have to have fans everywhere too - I remember the gentle whirring noise of the one in his bedroom. He doesn’t like it much, but I do – I find it comforting, soporific. The first time I stayed there I remember how peaceful it felt, in contrast to the fierce heat outside –lying in the darkness, with the gentle breeze on my face, the thin cool cotton of the sheet, the smell of his aftershave.

He’s decided to do something about his habit; I’m not sure why - perhaps he thought that weaning himself off slowly wasn’t really working.

48 hrs clear but staying awake longer than 5 or 10 mins is...problematical. plz bear with me. its supposed to get easier after the first few days.

I know there’s nothing I can do. I know he wants to do this on his own. It doesn’t stop me wishing I could be there though. It doesn’t stop me worrying,

I googled it – crystal meth withdrawal, and I had to scroll past a million ads for private rehab. It’s very big over there - a real money-spinner. When you get to the useful pages, where they aren’t trying to sell you something, they all say the same – the tiredness – the inability to stay awake, which can last for anything from a few days to a few months, but the worst bit, much worse than the sleepiness, is the anhedonia – the inability to experience pleasure; that part lasts far longer and it’s the hardest thing to deal with.

I’m having a break from writing lists, and I’ve come up here to my bedroom. It is really beautiful outside, and I can see that the sunshine’s working wonders on the newly planted winter wheat. It’s only taken a few weeks for the fields to change from brown to green. I wonder if I’ll still be here when they harvest it.

I wish I could be there right now – wish I could do something for him, but I know I can’t. I worry most about the pleasure thing – the anhedonia. Perhaps in October, if it’s still bad, we can go back to the ocean again. Lying on the beach, no-one’s going to care if he falls asleep every ten minutes, and in between, when he’s awake, we can watch the Pacific like we did before. I think that might do the trick.