M-O-O-N that spells lycanthropy

I've long had a mythology about the moon and my life. The fact that I can start of saying it's mythology says something about the passage of time, and that I am not the eye-liner-sporting, Bauhaus-shirt-wearing, drawing-witch-symbols-on-my-leather-jacket ball of self-congratulatory nonsense that I once was.

The whole myth I have about my relation to the moon is wrapped up in some odd facts about my family, specifically my mother and her line:

1. We are allergic to silver. She told me this many times, but I had to prove it to myself because when you're 17 no one knows anything but you, especially not your parents. I got my ear pierced multiple times at once. I started with a pair of gold studs just in case she was right, and finished with 3 silver ones a few days later after being made fun of for the gold. Within a week my ear was infected to horror movie standards in spite of meticulous hygiene, and my immune system had been erased leaving me with pneumonia that kept me out of school for a month. "I told you we were allergic to silver". I told you so. Thanks mom. 

Since then I've limited my contact with that metal, but found that the allergy is quite real, if uncommon. In the US, anyway.

2. We are extremely carnivorous. We eat red meat in amounts that make other people cringe, with definitions of "fully cooked" that cause arguments with other people. When I was a teenager I developed a craving. This was beyond the munchies of the pot I'd just smoked in the living room; this was a full on, belly-rumbling, must-have-it need: meat. Now. There was only a package of raw hamburger. I started to drool a little, probably because I was stoned. I tore a small hole in the plastic wrap that could be closed leaving no evidence, and got myself a small ball of ground moo-cow. 

It. Was. Heavenly. I took one more chunk, this time salting a it little, and closed up the package. 

For years I would snack so, ground beef, steaks, what have you, only taking moo-cow raw, having enough sense to avoid pig and poultry. But I kept this secret from people. I knew it was a little...off.

Until I came down stairs late one night and found my mother eating raw hamburger straight from the package. I was miffed because that's what I was coming for. She startled as though caught in a terrible act. Attempting to steal back some dignity she looked at me and said in a perfectly normal manner "Christopher. Would you like some?"

I continued the eating of raw moo-cow until about 30 when I could no longer put down the fear of pathogens. That's not to say the craving isn't there, but rare will suffice, rather than raw.

3. We, being bi-polar can become beasts. While both of my parents have a frightening temper it's only my mother's that ever made me fear for my safety. Apparently my temper is quite the same, though my standards for reaching that level are much different. 

I've even noticed that different phases of the moon produce different moods for me, or that different moods coincide with the phases. However you need to read it.

My conclusion when I was young: we were werewolves, of a bloodline diluted by mixing with humans for so long. Now I tend to think of the perfectly reasonable medical explanations for these facts, and am content with them.

I mention my personal mythology to emphasize that lunar activity has long held a significant place in my understanding of my life. Now:

Super Full Moon on Saturday.

This has some major fascination for me. The last Super Full Moon was a week before I turned 21. That was the beginning of some serious awfulness, as the legal sanctioning of my alcoholism mounted my depressive tendencies to sire a Monstrous Depressive Episode that lasted years. Even after the initial depression lifted the self-destructive self-medication continued until I was 30.

From 21 to 30 was a period of my life marred by moments of extraordinary darkness. I won't detail any of them right now; I'm just amazed I never succumbed to them. There is still some major rubble marking my path in those years.

What has this to do with the moon? Rationally, nothing. In my magical-thinking, hypersensitive-to-certain-patterns mind quite a lot. Whenever an event similar to one that began a period of time occurs I see it as the possible closing of a circle. Even if that event didn't cause the time period, even if it was mere coincidence, I can't help but ascribing it magical significance.

Regardless of the presence, or lack of magic, such thinking makes me reflect on my life, and really take stock of it. I look back now on some of the things I did in the aforementioned time of my life and can honestly say that I know better, that I would not do these things, that I would make better decisions, that I would not be so childish, or beastly.

I was a frightened, selfish boy in man size. This moon signals that I have transformed from that, and that the time for blind, needless destruction is well over. The darkness has lifted, as signaled by the rise of this moon.