Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Have you ever been depressed?
Really depressed? Not bored, or lonely, or stressed out.
Depressed, and for no reason that makes sense to any sane person.

It's the holiday. You're supposed to be happy on a holiday. You're supposed to clean your house and watch movies and eat junk food and lounge in your pajamas even though allllll of your laundry is clean. Very, very clean. And folded. And put away. You're supposed to read that stack of books on your nightstand and work on your drawings and chase the cat off the wrapping paper five hundred times even though it would be easier to put her in the bathroom until you've finished wrapping the gifts.

But sooner or later, that stuff gets done and then it's you nursing a mug of tea and thinking your unhealthy thoughts and falling asleep in front of Star Trek again, and you wonder if the holidays were as much a misery for the adults in your life when you were small and you were just so busy being a kid you didn't notice. My brother concurs. He feels it, too.

I'm sitting here with the tree I forced myself to decorate even though it sat around the house for over a week in garbage bags driving the cats bonkers and making the place look bad. I put it up when the kids were here but left it bare because no one else seemed to care, either. It wasn't until two days before Christmas I begrudgingly hung just enough ornaments to fill up the three quarters of it you can see. I wound the tinsel around to cover the same spots.


Just where you can see.

I never do that. I remember a story I read once about the sculptor who carved the Lincoln monument. He carved in excruciating detail every part, even the ones people would likely never see because HE knew they were there.
I can't say my Christmas tree compares to the Lincoln monument. I don't think there is anyone suffering under the delusion that my tree is even pretty this year, but that is how I used to operate; like someone might stick their head in the corner and see that I had decorated the whole tree, even if that person was me. I wasn't excited about it, but I cared about the little things.

This year, there is no detail.
There is no smaller secondary "Grinch Tree" which was all about me, anyway, but still, the little things...
There are no cookies, nothing is wrapped, there's been no attempt at greeting cards.
The greeting cards are always a fail, but I usually at least try.
I haven't seen Ralphie in his rabbit suit, Max pulling the sled, Jack Skellington fucking up everything.

And I don't think it's just me.
I don't think it's just my family.
The world looks tired.

I need a new
point of view.

What do you do for the holiday that makes you happy?
What do you do that gets you moving?
Where do you find your joy?

I'm serious because...
I
don't
know.

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