Holiday Stress

December 22, 2009

Last night I had one of those manicky episodes where I’m so squirrely all over the place I can’t think properly, nobody has the right answer, and I’m in a big black hole I can’t see out of. I wrote a big long post, deleted it, and then was on the phone with my therapist for 1 in the morning. (She certainly is a badass for staying up all night talking to me.) I made the mistake of calling a friend or two that I thought would have a word of advice, but instead I got a voicemail and someone in an altered mind state who wasn’t exactly helpful.

November used to be the month when I lost my shit. Since I was about 16, significant emotional bulletpoints were created, and subsequently, November always stressed me out. By Thanksgiving, I would be a puddle on the floor and would be just about worthless to everyone. This year, I thrived through November, and for some reason, it may have been shifted on to December. It’s the first year I’m not going home. It’s the first year I’m really confused about my romantic and social life. It’s the first year I really feel like I don’t have an outlet or purpose. I don’t really know where I belong… and I think it’s finally caught up.

It’s easy for most people to tell me I’m out of my mind. That I’m overreacting and everything is fine and I just need to chill out. But for the most part, the people I know have got their shit together. They’ve got full time jobs (if not a consistent income) and, as far as I know, everyone’s got some sort of family to have for the holidays… even my sister – who isn’t going home – but is spending Christmas with her boyfriend’s family in Colorado. I thought my roommate was sticking around, but he got a cheap last minute ticket home, so I really AM alone on Christmas. I am a Christmas orphan, and the idea of sitting by myself in a bar on a night that has always been about spending time with people you care about is killing me. I’m already having difficulty coping with the not to distant future… it was like my birthday in Oregon this past year – it will arrive and disappear and not even matter to anyone, but it will haunt me. It will tease me profusely that nothing marked that moment.

I think the only thing keeping me alive at this point are these tiny rushes of bad behavior… breaking tiny rules and rebelling against what I feel is truly right in my heart. Every day, it’s like getting a tattoo… I’m a human advent calendar and nobody knows what’s behind the next door…

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