Bah Humbug.

I'm just acting like the holidays aren't happening this year.

I couldn't find the energy to get a tree. I can't remember the last time I made it to December without putting a tree up.

I haven't bought a roll of wrapping paper or even walked through the Christmas section at Target. I'm opting out of many gift exchanges.

I usually host our English department's Christmas party, but the idea of hosting anything just makes me feel drained. I'll just lay low.

The Christmas/Hanukkah parties aren't on the calendar. Is it worth finding a babysitter? Or risking feeling uncomfortable? I haven't figured it out.

I have no idea when I was last at the mall. It's been a long time. I used to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the holidays, but I'm pretty sure a crowded mall would give me a panic attack today.

I haven't invited my friends from college up for our annual visit. I desperately want to see them, but it feels like so much effort for them to get up here, and I don't have the money to put on our Christmas tea.

I'm letting the holidays roll on by.

I figure this is the last year where I'll have this sort of an option. Next year Klara will be more involved in our holiday celebrations. I hope that will make this time of the year more merry and bright.

I'm just ready for it all to be over this year.

Blue.

I can't even walk across my bedroom without tripping because the floor is so covered in clothes--laundry that needs to be done or clothes that just need to be hung up. The dishwasher really needs to be unloaded, and the catalogs from the last couple of days' worth of mail are piling up on the kitchen counter. My shoes are in the middle of the living room floor, and I tripped on the phone on the way to the kitchen.

There is only one time when my house looks like this--times like now--times when I can barely drag myself up the stairs let alone keep my house tidy. Right now, I can physically feel the sadness, and it anchors me to the couch or to my bed. 

For the last couple of weeks, I've been barely functioning, let alone thriving. It might be the holidays. It might be the cold. It might be my brother. It might be spending so much time alone. I don't really know.

Whatever it is, I hope it passes quickly because it's just so heavy. 

Maybe I'll start by cleaning my house tomorrow.

This space has been quiet, and that bothers me--not because of any grandiose perception of readership, but because I don't feel like myself.

I don't have anything to say that would interest you or that I feel comfortable sharing with an unknown audience (and, in some cases, a known audience that I don't trust). I have a lot going through my mind, but none of it's good.

I will say this: 'Tis the season when being single is impossible. I love everything about this time of year, which makes me hate it. It's so difficult to experience November through January in solitude--what's beautiful becomes sad. My attempts to "fix" my loneliness often fall flat, which makes it just a little bit harder.

I'm trusting in the hope for tomorrow--that things do, eventually, get better. They must.

Christians and depression

I am getting very, very tired of trite suggestions for curing depression, especially in Christian circles. If you or someone close to you has been attacked by the beast that is depression, anxiety, or suicidal thoughts, you know that there is no easy solution.

I really appreciate Elizabeth Esther's thoughts on the subject. She is candid, gracious, and funny. Most wonderfully, she challenges the belief that clinical depression is a matter of morality, rather than biology.

Promise me you'll never tell a person in the throes of depression that her depression is of her own doing? Please?

Show grace and be gentle. Please.

Why?

Sometimes life seems like more trouble than it's worth. Life, in general, can be so very unsatisfying.

Relationships are hard. Making money is a challenge. Carving out time in the day for everything seems impossible. Trying to look good takes more money and energy than I have. School is overwhelming. I can never give enough of myself.

If I'm surviving, how will I ever live? What about beauty, love, nurture, peace, charity, romance, and joy?

What makes life worth living?  How do you make those things a part of your life?

I find rest in the craziness of the ebb and flow of life.

The darkest times make the light from the joy piercing. I like to really notice the light, and coming from despair helps me to see the hope in the everyday. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Glimpses of joy engulf me. Life is, truly, beautiful.

Feed me.

I'm sitting on the couch drinking my evening cup of "happy tea."
I'm thinking about what it means to be happy.
I'm wondering if I have control over my own happiness.
Is my happiness determined by the chemicals in my brain or by my choices?

I've determined that a few things feed my soul--every time:
Tea
Sunshine
Laughter
Being active
Evenings in the City
Creating
The ocean
Lovin'
Good literature
Real mail
Babies and
Feeding people.

There will be times when the depression becomes a dark curtain that I can't find my way through. It's a part of who I am, and it will be a lifelong struggle for me. I know that.

Sometimes, though, I just need to ask myself, "Am I feeding my soul?"

I'm thinking about creating something, somewhere, in my home that will serve as a constant reminder of my "soul food." I'm having a hard time, however, of thinking of something that won't seem like a cheesy vision wall. I want it to follow good design so it's attractive to people other than me.

Suggestions?

Honestly,

Image by Nicholas Haggard

I'm so confused/lost/restless. I can feel it in my gut. I'm desperately trying to be present where I am, but I'm not feeling it. I don't want to be here. 

What would happen if we actually talked about our demons? What if we confessed to each other the things we whisper in our darkest hours? How would life be different?

The annual Christmas melancholy

As soon as I hear the first Christmas song, I start to get sad. Each holiday season, I experience intense depression. I love the sounds, smells, and feel of the season. I love decorating, baking, and sharing. Hell, I even like the Christmas music. For some reason, though, this time of year makes me feel more alone than any other time of the year. There's something about cinnamon candles burning and the glow of Christmas lights that seem to require others. This is the time of the year when I tend to do stupid things.

The sadness of my solitude, my unrealized dreams, my stagnancy, my broken heart--the sadness of it all--made it impossible for me to climb the stairs. I just sat at the bottom and wept.

My most remarkable feeling, from the beginning to the present, has always been sadness. I think it helps to define me. I'm sensitive and, therefore, often sad. Of course, the quietness of a summer that I expected to be life-altering makes it more piercing.

When I lay my head on the pillow, tomorrow starts

Today was a weird day. It was my birthday.

When I got to school, the power was out in the portables, which meant no lights and no heat. Someone stole the copper wire, and we were told to expect no power all day. It was frigid and dark. We had to open the door for the sunlight, but the cold air was biting. I took 2^nd block to the student union, spent half of 3^rd block there, and then I kept 4^th block in my room. At the end of the day, I was very tired and very cold.

I went home, put on sweats, and read under a quilt. I was supposed to go to dinner with my mom, but I really didn’t want to get dressed and go out, so I stayed home. You know that was a bad call, I knew it was a bad call, but I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

After a few hours of solitude, I decided that I wasn’t feeling up to calling a friend, but that I should probably get out of the house. Strangers seemed safe.

I drove to Mervyn’s, called my mom, cried in the parking lot, and then I drove back home.

If it wasn’t my birthday, it would have been a perfectly fine evening. I hate birthdays and holidays. And teacher appreciation week. I feel so unappreciated during teacher appreciation week.

Tomorrow’s a new day. A normal day. A Friday. Cross your fingers for electricity. I'm going to wear a coat and scarf, just in case.

Like a gas.

"...sadness rises into the soul like a gas and spreads despair so that you probe for the offending event and can find none."

- Steinbeck's East of Eden

The people around me are moving. They’re getting married, moving to different cities, buying homes, having babies, starting new jobs, traveling, and living life in big ways. I'm trying to celebrate, but I’m getting dizzy.

Running on empty...

I am utterly drained. Drained of creativity, life, spirituality, and spunk. Bleh. I forget how to be refilled. Any suggestions? Where do you find life?

Loneliness is remarkable. This feeling is so strong that if I breathe really deeply, it tickles my insides and brings subtle tears to my eyes.