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After Sunday’s stunning Seahawks loss to the Carolina Panthers at the Clink, I posted the accompanying picture (above) on Facebook and Twitter with saying that it reflected the “interior weather” of Seahawks fans. The likes began to pour in.

The image is of a painting by the 19th century artist Albert Bierstadt and you can see it in person at the Seattle Art Museum. It purports to be a painting of “Puget Sound on the Pacific Coast,” but the artist clearly has mixed up his geography, perhaps the way the Seahawks themselves are sending us fans mixed signals.

In the image, a storm is sweeping in. A once sunny day is being overtaken by dark clouds, the sea is rough. In the foreground paddlers beach their laden canoes ahead of disaster. Will they find shelter anywhere?

After a 2-4 start, we all know that something is terribly wrong with the Seahawks this season, and fears are growing that they might be mimicking the Mariners 2015 season: high expectations, a solid roster that added a superstar, a slow start, a general collapse back into the familiar mire of mediocrity.

I think we all know that this Seahawks team is not the Mariners in that they have proven themselves: two Super Bowl appearances in the last two seasons, and one ring. Should we worry that the ring also brings with it bad luck, as in Tolkein’s trilogy—a “curse?”

The Seahawks are baffled, as is their leader Pete Carroll, and you can see it in his face—the eternally youthful coach is aging before our eyes. Carroll’s book on coaching and life is titled, “Win Forever.” That is a high bar to set for yourself and your team.

There is much speculation about the Seahawks rough start: players too complacent with fat contracts, an ineffective offensive line, a quarterback distracted by a celebrity girlfriend, injuries, coaching incompetence, communication problems, or just a few missed plays separating victory from the agony of defeat.

My wife, a psychotherapist and fan, speculates the Hawks’ late-game losses might be a kind of re-enactment of their late Super Bowl trauma—the last-second mistake only a yard from victory. “You should have given it Marshawn!” the fan’s refrain at an intercepted Russell Wilson pass that allowed Tom Brady and the New England Patriots to go home with a smirk.

It is common for people to work out past traumas by reliving them, but also possible that they can fall into a pattern of constant repetition of them. The Seahawks play great for three quarters, then blow a late lead to lose the game. Sound familiar?

We were told the team had put these things aside over the summer as they bonded on their man-retreat in Hawaii. Truths were told, anger was expressed, demons were purged.

But you can’t always therapize yourself.

And what of the fans?

Watching a Seahawks game this season seems to bring the pain of passing a kidney stone without the relief of passing it.

Yet the fact that there’s a next game, therefore hope, is what makes one’s interior dark weather tolerable. No one said being a sports fan was strictly about pleasure. Ask the 12’s who have hung in through thick and thin for 40 years, through decades of chronic pain. At least now, like the best TV mini-series, we have human drama!

Beach the boats, dry out, go back tomorrow.