The Dissolution of Summer - Involuntary and Otherwise

The fifth edition of the American Heritage dictionary defines dissolution as 1) decomposition into fragments: disintegration. That definition is swiftly followed by 2) indulgence in sensual pleasures: debauchery.

In my 64 years, I’ve never heard dissolution referred to as debauchery. Perhaps it was my sheltered childhood and two decades as an adult in a cult?? But now the wool has been pulled from my eyes and I’m so curious about the link between disintegration and indulgence. Today I wonder if this connection was discovered during high summer.

Dissolution was pushed into my awareness, paired with the word ‘involuntary’ when I was compelled to carefully check all of my bank accounts - including business accounts - because, yup, I got hacked. The tedious process of reconciliation flipped into an adrenalin rush when I discovered large sums of money were gone and again when the fraud department at the bank determined that someone in Oregon had logged in earlier that day using my credentials. No, that was not me.

It was at the same bank, different day, that I saw the words, ‘Involuntary Dissolution’ on the banker’s computer screen for an entity associated with said account. According to the Vermont Secretary of State, it had disintegrated involuntarily due to a payment not being received. A few clicks on a few different computer screens over a few days and all was well again. The reinstatement notice declared the entity “shall resume carrying on its activities as if the dissolution had never occurred”.

Poof it was gone. Then poof it was back.

I have been thrown for a loop by the hundreds of details associated with the closing and opening of multiple bank accounts over the last few weeks. Most complicated was our primary business account that had been open for over fifteen years through which my husband and I account for several businesses. I’m still working on the list of i’s to cross and t’s to dot… sigh… you know what I mean.

This stuff is not easy to manage any time of year, but I would argue the hardest time might be during the fullness of summer. Before me is a tidy stack of papers, complete with checklists, but my ability to focus on these tasks seems to decompose in the warmth of the sun. But I persevere, in what sometimes feels like a delusional hope that I will finally be done with this annoying project.

The sun is high. The green shimmers just beyond my computer screen, I can nearly touch the leaves. Cicadas buzz. The water temperature at the nearby lake has reached perfection: a luxurious mix of being both refreshing and relaxing. My shoulders melt imagining myself suspended there.

Clearly, it’s time to finish this essay and indulge in some voluntary dissolution: a long, leisurely swim. Perhaps with a few clicks of reality, I will re-form, as if the dissolution of my attention had never occurred. I’ll return, focused and ready to work. Is this debauchery of the finest kind? What’s your version?

Dissolution or not, summer is a time to pick up the pen. Because writing is proven to support your well being. You can hear me talk about the astonishing and inspirational research of James Pennebaker while riffing with Sarah Edmondson, in the two most recent episodes of A Little Bit Culty. Do me a favor and share it with a friend - and be sure to listen to Parts One and Two.

Gerette on A Little Bit Culty - Part One

If it would help you to write with others and receive support from fellow survivors of coercive control, please register for a Writing to Reckon class. One writer recently told me, “You’ve got to attend the class to experience it’s magic.”

Register for a Writing to Reckon Class

Thanks for reading. Happy high summer.