This Year

This year I am having a hard time with the Christmas season.

It literally changes year-to-year – I have no idea how it will be, how I will be.  I am fine in all aspects of being “fine”, but I am always much better on December 26.   It will change in a snap, just when that long hand on the clock clicks over.

It is almost like, “Phew, I did it again.”

Did what again, you may ask?  I honored myself.  I took care of myself.  I said, “No” I will not be treated that way.  I stand fierce, even too fierce for some.  I protected my health from negative energy.

There is two-fold with this subject for myself – there is shame in some respects because “Why should I have a problem?”  I live my own life.  I have Sheila.  I have my lovely, amazing, inspiring friends – but then blank.  Not even an emptiness but a blank.

I don’t even understand my parents.  I don’t know them. They don’t understand me. I don’t know them, so – the blank.  A barren field filled with ash.  Trees that once were, but burned to the ground.  Nothing.

The other-fold: one could say I chose this.  I walked. I moved. I shut the door. I ran away. I sped as fast as I could, and I did – so what do you expect?

Blank.

I expect nothing, honestly nothing from them.

What I expect from others and from the earth below is kindness.  That is it.  I don’t even expect anyone to understand me, my feelings, why I ran, why sped as fast I could, why I think the way I do, why I became the person I became – but all I wanted was to be treated with kindness.

That is it.

If something else grows from that, then fuck yeah. But, sometimes it just doesn’t.

My parents were kind often, but man – they were not many times too.  Their kindness would appear and then they would snatch it right out of your hand. “You fell for that one? Damn shame.”  They just smashed that into the ground and buried that sentiment.

This is in my point-of-view only, right? Singular. There are always two sides. Just throwing it out there.

I believe, each year I grieve and that is why I don’t know how it will be, how I will be. Grief comes in waves, and it appears when it needs and wants to.  I let it come, sometimes in a middle of a store, or to and from wherever I am going.  Wherever it appears, because I have to give in; you have to give in. I don’t punish myself. I don’t set expectations. I don’t go into each year, like “I got this”, cause believe me – Grief carries a heavier and stronger torch than I do.

Sometimes I can do more, be more involved in the season than others – but some years, the weight is too much.  So, I carry on the best way I know how, which is usually just do what needs to get done and wait for the hand to click. Then some years, out of nowhere I get a burst of seasonal spirit. Whatever I can do – is enough.

So where is the shame?  I guess in being human.  I can tear down walls.  I can conquer feats I didn’t even know – but when you are hurt you are hurt. I must sit with it and let it flow through me.  Never let it sit and manifest into something ugly in years to come.

In some ways, I feel defeated but in some ways I don’t. I carry on and do what needs to be done.

There is no shame in that.

Please watch: courtesy of Brene’ Brown and Youtube.