My brother called me earlier this evening. Wanted to know what I thought of getting Mom and Dad a garage door opener for Christmas. A friend was over for dinner, they were clearly goofing off, he sound fine with Patience and the baby going out west next week, and he sounded pretty chipper in general (contrary to what Mom would have me believe based on talking to her the other day). He asked what I wanted for Christmas, too.

I, on the other hand, came home at lunch time and went to sleep for three or four hours. Didn’t feel like I was getting sick (like everyone else at the company), just too tired to think or accomplish anything or stay upright.

I haven’t given a whole lot of thought into what to get the family for Christmas, because the entire thought of Christmas these days leaves me depressed and tired. For a variety of reasons, I have basically been trying to cancel the season as much as possible. Unless I get lucky, my soul is on its knees until January. This is not last year: The Season of Relief and Deliverance.

Usually it’s me with some semblance of festive spirit. Usually it’s me with the organizing and gift ideas and smiles and ironic singing of I Hate Christmas at the top of my lungs. Usually it’s me listening to Mom endlessly worrying about my brother, sometimes over something, usually over nothing.

As much as my former naturopath and I didn’t gel, there was one thing she said that has stuck with me (this was after the couple months of The Crazy). Things inside us that we need to deal with and get out will find their way out. And it’s not always pretty (especially if we’ve been really good at hiding or shoving them out of the way). There’s been some ugliness over the holidays in my life over the past few years, and maybe I just need to grieve it out. Of course, it could just be garden variety depression triggered by cold and darkness and Christmas carols playing in retail establishments for nearly two months…

I will find a way for the patterns to work themselves out fully. I will find my resurrection, too. I don’t know where yet. There isn’t a me to take over for me. And even if there was, I’d tell the bitch to fuck off. (Know thyself…)

I want to apologize. I want to hide and be left alone. I want magic.

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