Days Like Today

Sometimes I don’t feel like trying anymore.  I don’t want to get out of bed.  I don’t want to go to work.  I don’t want to have to deal with anyone here.  It’s days like these that I’m so tempted to quit everything, pack up my car, and move back home.  Because I know I’d be welcomed there with open arms.  I know I would be taken care of.  Simple things wouldn’t seem so damn hard.

I’m in a place where I feel that no matter what I do, I’m not good enough, not matter how I go about my tasks.  Nothing ever goes to plan, so what is the point in planning anything anyway?

I’ve known for a long time that depression tends to get worse around the holidays.  And I’m really feeling it.  I just want this month to be over.

I need time to reassess.  I need to move forward, not back.

I know that this won’t last forever.  I know that I’ve felt this before and been free of it.  I can and will be free again.  It just takes time.

Goodbye 2016

I think most people would say good riddance to 2016.  It hasn’t been the worst year, but it’s been quite a year.

I started out the year working far too much and being home not enough and tired quite often.  I was spending time with someone who didn’t value me. I didn’t make priorities of the things that I should have.

In March, I made the biggest decision of my life so far and decided to pack up and move across the country, with no job, very little savings, and no place to live.  But I’ve fallen in love with my home here in Alabama.  I have great friends and my heart is finding somewhere to belong.

2016 will always be the year my mother died.  It’s not fair, how much this year has claimed.  The door is about to close here, and there’s nothing we can do to make 2017 the same.

I want to do great things in 2017.  I want to be healthy again.  I want to be even happier.  I want to adventure and try new things.  I want to learn to save and plan, while still having time to explore.

I want to fall in love with 2017.  Maybe fall in love in 2017.  We’ll see, I guess.

I wish that I had more to say.  There are a lot of words in my mind, but they tend to get stopped before they reach fruition.  So maybe writer’s block is weeds.

Here’s to 2017.

Christmas (A Poem)

Christmas.
Family.
When the air is filled with cheer
A time you want your loved ones near

Christmas.
A time we’re prone to forget
Wrapped up in the mess of present wrapping
Though its reason is all about the presence

Christmas.
A time for remembering
A God most powerful, became so humble
A child in a stable, came to save mankind

Christmas.
Unwrap new beginnings
It doesn’t matter what your tree looks like
There wasn’t even a tree at the original

Christmas.
Wisemen, shepherds, nativity.
So much more, though our small minds might make it less
King, creator, Lord of our hearts

Christmas.
A time to be found
Don’t get lost in this
Find time to be merry

Christmas.
Let your heart be warmed
No matter how cold it may or may not be outside
It was never about the weather anyway

Christmas.
Remember.
Be humbled and bring praise
Its every reason is so you could be saved

Christmas.

On Santa and Christmas Traditions

Working in customer service has taught me that people get meaner during the holidays.

I’m almost positive that I’ve never taken a picture with Santa.  My parents didn’t really teach the Santa thing.  I don’t remember ever really believing, but maybe I stopped before my memories began.  I vaguely remember logical conversations with my dad about how Santa wouldn’t fit down our chimney, but I’m pretty sure I knew it was always pretty much a fairy tale.
We focused more on the original Christmas story.  Yes, we did the tree for most of my life, but we opened at least one gift on Christmas Eve, and as my brother and I got older, we started to follow my dad’s family tradition of opening all the gifts on Christmas Eve, which pretty much takes Santa out of the equation entirely.
Sometimes my mom would write “from Santa” on certain gifts, but we always knew it was from her, plus, those gifts were under the tree days, if not a couple weeks, before Christmas.  Thus, it was really hard to actually believe in Santa.  And that’s okay.  I don’t really feel like I missed out.

Every year since I can remember, apart from the random years we were spending the holidays out of town, my family has gone to a Christmas Eve service at the church I grew up in.  Even after I moved away and my parents stopped going to that church, we still went to the service.  It was tradition.  Afterward, my parents would drive around and look at Christmas lights.  As I got older, I kinda got over that tradition, and started going home to wait for them.
The four of us would gather in the living room and usually eat a dessert or something and then give gifts.  It was nice.  It was pretty anticlimactic.
This year, I’ll be away from family for the first time.  I’m okay with it, I’m not complaining.  It’s just different, like almost every aspect of my life in the south.  I was expecting to work on Christmas, like I usually do, but this year I have it off.  So I’m going to cook and spend the evening with one of my favorite people.  I’m going to drink champagne.  Maybe I’ll start a new tradition.

 

The Case of the “I Don’t Matter”s

I’m experiencing an increasing case of the “I don’t matter”s.  So much that it’d probably be easier to disappear.  And I don’t need people to try harder or act smarter or to learn to remember.  Because it’s me.

And it makes me think.  Maybe no one really matters.  I mean, people matter to each other, and it’s my fault that I have no one.  I’ve never really learned to have anyone.  But in the largest meaning of the word, no one matters.  We are all just blips.  Time keeps going, and the longer time gets, the smaller chance our existence will impact anything.

I feel really abandoned, but I’m the one who abandons.  I’m the one who packs up and moves away.  I’m the one who doesn’t stay in touch.  I’m the heart breaker with a broken heart.

I went to a friend’s family’s thanksgiving.  I traveled to be there.  On the way home, I realized it probably would have been better for everyone if I hadn’t gone.  My being there changed nothing.  I was just overwhelmed.  Because I don’t like lots of new people.  I don’t like feeling stuck.  I’m not good at socializing.  Why do I think that because there is a holiday, I need to spend it somewhere, when I’d be happier at home?  I don’t matter.

I entered into something I didn’t mean to enter into.  But it wouldn’t matter if I was here or not.  They can argue over everything without me anyway.  And there would probably be fewer arguments if I didn’t show up, because I’m too liberal, apparently.  Anything I have to say just gets interrupted and forgotten.  I don’t matter.

And when people say that nothing is going to change, it always changes.  When they say you won’t get dropped, they’ll have excuses for when you do.  Because it’s impossible to articulate anything real at all.

I feel alone.  But I feel alone because I don’t know how to express what is inside of me.  I don’t know how to make anyone understand this grief that has built up.  I don’t know how to be anyone else.  I don’t matter.

Some Thoughts on Thanksgiving

So I do this every year.  Usually I talk about what I’m thankful for, but currently my mind is not headed that direction.  I think I’ll just talk about my Thanksgiving this year.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving.  My brother puts on a dinner for all of the climbers in Bishop every year, and I was expected to go down and help out.  I didn’t ask for Thanksgiving off, because I needed the money, so I was supposed to work 7-3, which would give me enough time to go drive down afterward for dinner.  Instead my schedule changed so that I wouldn’t be off until 4:30.  It’s a 45 minute drive to Bishop from where I live, and the dinner started at 5, which meant that I had to decide if it was worth it or not.  As the day got closer, I just felt like I would rather have a family Thanksgiving, and since that wasn’t offered, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it down.  The day of Thanksgiving a coworker called in sick, so I worked over time until about 7 instead, which I didn’t mind at all.  It was a decision made for me.

After work I got invited to several different houses for dinner.  I grabbed dinner and dessert at a friend’s house and went home, waiting for a call.  A certain someone had asked me to come over and watch a movie, but got tied up in his own plans, so didn’t come to pick me up until like 11pm.  So obviously I fell asleep, which by the way, why do people think that it’s normal to live on 4 hours of sleep?

I saw a Facebook post from a friend about how he wasn’t celebrating Thanksgiving, because that was what started all of the racism and whatever in America.  So, props to him for having an opinion, but also, is it so bad that I’m down to celebrate a holiday, regardless of how it began?  It’s a part of our culture.  Not that I celebrate being an American often, because I’m not that proud of it, but Thanksgiving has always been a part of my life, and I’m not being racist or killing people by eating a turkey with people I love every year.  It’s not bad to be thankful.  That’s what Thanksgiving is about for me.

And I could say so much more.  But I’m tired.  I’ll stop complaining now.

A Christian on Halloween

I’m currently sitting in my room watching a suspense movie, a “scary movie,” because I am in the mood. Tis the season I guess. 

And really, I just have some thoughts, so I’ll keep this short.

When I think of Halloween, I think of costumes and costume parties, and candy, and trick-or-treating. Because I’m a Christian, I think of Harvest Festivals, the alternative to Trick-or-Treating. Because of my age, I think of alcohol and scantily dressed females. And because I’m boring, I don’t usually take part in any of it. But I used to.

I remember when I was little, I dressed up as Queen Amidala from Star Wars, and went trick-or-treating in Southern California with my family. I went a few times in high school with my friends. And I dressed up a few times in college, and just went to stupid costume parties. But most of my Halloweens consisted of games at churches, Harvest Festivals that kept kids from the evils of Halloween. Seriously, I grew up in a tiny town. Halloween is not that evil here. What are we so afraid of? Why do Christians have to have an alternative for everything? Go against the flow, is that it?

So I was at this Bible study thing last week, and some people that were a bit older than I am, started going on about how we need to pray against Halloween. They said the satanists are really at it this year. I got really uncomfortable and texted my friend. As someone who knows a lot about fear, I could tell that these actions were out of fear. But fear makes us weak. It gives power to the thing we’re afraid of. 

Sure, Halloween might have had not the best origin. Maybe it used to be some evil holiday. Maybe it still is some places. But it doesn’t have to be. I went to a Christian college where we celebrated it. Although celebrated is probably the wrong word. It’s not sacred, it’s kind of like Labor Day, it gives us something to do. So let’s do it! It’s not often that people are poisoning children or sacrificing humans or summoning the antichrist on Halloween. Yes, Wiccan covens, or whatever they call themselves, observe this day as sacred, but being afraid of them changes nothing. 

My senior year of college I took a class that studied cultures. We talked about the sacred secular divide, and how it’s not necessary. God can be in everything, and anything can be sacred. It’s not, what is Christian and what isn’t, it’s, look at this cool thing, let me find God in it. There are horrible things everywhere, we don’t need to be making the fun things horrible too. 

So, on Saturday, go have fun. Someone please wear a sheet and be a ghost. Get candy. Go play games at the harvest festival. Carve a pumpkin. Drink something. And don’t be afraid. Or do. It’s up to you.

Sorry that this is so scattered. I wrote it on my phone…