Most Sunday nights I encounter a mood I nickname ‘Sunday Night Melancholy’.

It is a complex emotional state with many elements. There is bereavement the weekend is over. There is a sense of boredom – there are a lot of things I could do,  but I am too tired to do any of them. There is a quiet satisfaction of another week concluded. Although it is a tired time, I struggle against going to sleep, as my next conscious thought is Monday morning. 

It is often a quiet time. Music is off. I sit often sit outside in the dark on the patio, or in the pool. I feel the passing of Time.  I think of cosmic things, such as where I am going and what have I seen and done.  

SNM makes me think of loss and dissapointment. There is a nagging sense I have somehow failed. I missed out on Life, not unlike someone missing a train by a few minutes.

Often there is a sense of loneliness. I think of so many people I no longer know, and friendships that fell away. Sunday Night Melancholy stirs up emotions of loss and isolation. Whom do I have to call in the night and tell them I am troubled or sad? 

 

After 30 years of so I am familiar with SNM to know this passes. I go to bed, wake up on Monday as usual, and get into the week’s routine. 

In the day time of Monday, SNM sees a just a bad dream or a fleeting folly.  

 

And yet it returns, Sunday after Sunday, as if to say ‘you must face me’.