Alrighty, by now you guys understand that I’m severely depressed and emotionally damaged. I’m in therapy, and although my session got canceled this week, I’ve made a little progress through just talking so far. So little disclaimer this post is themed around that.
I’ve bought the presents for everyone important to me, essentially watching my paychecks disappear into thin air. And I’m actually surprisingly okay with it. These are the people who mean the most to me, and they deserve the absolute best.
I’ve baked goodies with my mom, contracting a sugar high each and every time a fresh batch came out of the oven. They’ve been packed in adorable little packages to be delivered to friends, co-workers, and eventually enjoyed by family on Christmas.
It’s been talked with Tom about visiting the tree in the city, taking the basic couple picture and making sure everyone sees it on Instagram. Like so:
We’ve joked about how his present is going to be better than what I got him (which I guess we’ll just have to see).
My house basically looks like Ghost of Christmas past, present and future came in and threw up in here. The lights in the living room make it a steady 100° at all times, while trinkets and toys line the bookshelves surrounding the tv. The tree is covered in nearly 800 ornaments, each with meaning. It’s the holidays, it’s supposed to be a happy time.
With that being said, the holidays are absolutely wearing me down. A time of year that’s supposed to be festive and full of fun and family and friends, and I’m struggling to make it through each and every day. I feel unbelievably debilitated, unable to break out of such an embarrassing funk that has been weighing down on me for years.
The holidays remind me of a better time. A time where my grandma called each Christmas morning to ask what Santa had brought us, reminding us that we’ll see here later for dinner, more presents and a whole lot of love.
But now, that’s all gone. Since 2015, the holidays have been a grisly reminder that I’m still broken after the loss of my grandma. And being reminded of this reminds me of all the other broken pieces of me that I cry about in therapy.
It reminds me of the pain that I experience each and every day, so much so that people around me comment about my misery. It’s not something that I can control just yet, and I’m trying to learn how to without being a nuisance to those around me.
The holidays for me are hard. They’re a painful reminder of everything I’ve lost – from family, to friends, even losing myself. But if there’s anything I can say about this holiday season, anything at all, it’s this:
Appreciate what you have before you realize it’s gone. Appreciate what you have before you tear open the presents you asked for and post them all over social media. Tell your loved ones just that, that you love them unconditionally.
This holiday season, just remember that it’s not easy for everyone.