There once was a time when I used to love snow, especially in the morning when I just discovered the fluffy cold stuff laid over the filthy earth. It made everything look so clean and fresh. I couldn’t wait to jump into a smooth untouched patch.
“1, 2, 3!” arms out at my sides, legs stiff like Christmas tree stumps, and letting gravity to its thing as I watch the world pass my eyes until my shoulders, back, and head hit the ground with a blunted thud.
I’d just lay there looking up at the sky for a while letting the snowflakes burn on my face. Everything sparkles in winter. Back then it was magic, I remembered.
You won’t catch me doing that now. No. Nah. Nope. I’ve got enough metal in my spine to set off alarms at a department store and enough osteoarthritis, other unidentifiable itis-es and steroid glue that I’m sure my bone fossils will make a nice museum piece one day. I slipped on ice one year and my hair hasn’t looked right since. Needless to say, I’m not a huge fan of winter anymore so I am satisfied living vicariously through this little smile right here.
Where have I been lately besides keeping warm?
Busy. Smothered. Overwhelmed. Annoyed. Sad. And totally lost.
I don’t know if you do this but I pace the floors in my house when I need to burn off anxious energy or to look for the missing thoughts in the scattered pages in my bipolar brain. Sometimes I am actually writing. Sometimes I am replaying a conversation I had or am about to have. Whatever the reason, my husband says I look dreadfully vacant and he knows better than to interrupt me when I’m wandering from room to room.
I just need to think, to sort, to settle the dust, to breathe.
I wish I could describe what it’s like to be me when I’m feeling bombarded — it would be like you sitting in the middle of McDonald’s PlayPlace area with all those kids yelling and screaming for their moms all at once and there is one little turd who has a recorder and there’s at least 2 crying babies.
Now try and read a book or something that requires you to think think think till you sweat that grease from the fries you just ate.
Feel that inner tension?
That is me and what a hell of a time to feel this way. It’s the holidays and we are expected to be jolly! Smile! Deck the halls. Bake this! Attend that! Personally, I think we should be allowed to feel whatever we need to feel and we are allowed to say “No thanks Carol. Your cooking scares me. I’d rather spend the night in my PJ’s watching Netflix until I roll into a frozen cookie dough coma.”
“No” should suffice as a good enough answer though. I am shocked at how many people don’t understand that “no” is a complete sentence and that they practically need a doctor’s note to prove why you cannot attend a birthday party.
I’d rather celebrate my son’s gold fish’s birthday by inviting all the fish from the local pet store. I’d rather my entire house smell like GD sea world than go celebrate someone’s day of birth who ignores me.
I draw the line people. I’m drawing it. It’s been drawn.
And then I drew happy trees because lines need some happy.
I’m completely overwhelmed with life. I have more important things to care about right now than cookies, lights, and wrapping paper. There is a current life event that has me…it just has me and all of us tangled up in knots. It’ll be OK eventually . I know it will.
I missed my psychiatrist appointment because I thought it was a Wednesday. I was making lunch and told my son, “Oh it’s Wednesday. You have gym today!” And he said “It’s Thursday. Duh!”
Like how did I lose an entire 24 hours?!
I felt horrible and emailed my doctor to apologize. This is the second appointment I’ve missed – the other was a pain specialist. I’m losing my marbles. Speaking of pain, I had cortisone shots on Monday.
Last ones of 2017.
I hate 2017.
Yesterday after I emailed my psychiatrist and rage baked banana muffins, I put on Sam Smith and my goodness, what a great album this one is. I wanted to turn off my phone because I craved isolation but my son’s school is a big box of shady garbage so I had to put it on vibrate. I shuffled about in pink slippers, hands wrapped around my hot tea mug, and caught the ethereal glow from that fresh snow that fell. I know that my son will be destroying it when I pick him up in a couple of hours.
His smile, his joy, his laughter – finding magic in the ordinary just like I used to at his age – it makes me happy.
Despite how I am feeling, we are still moving onward with the show. We have been doing the things for Christmas – although he’s been over the songs since they started playing them in stores since 2009. We visited Santa and he was really excited, and saw some lit up holiday train, turn on the lights and watch movies like Guardians Of The Galaxy — you know, all the classic Christmas ones.
Perhaps the feelings of Christmas – the joy, the excitement, that magic – will hit me later?
All I really want though, is for this little kid here to be happy.
Tell me, what are you doing to keep yourself afloat during the holidays?