Is it ok to talk about depression when it's occurring in your life? Part of me feels like it isn't. That I shouldn't speak of a word of it. Then again writing and/or talking about it has, in the past, helped me feel better. But then again this isn't really talking to anyone when I type this out. And that's part of the problem. Not having anyone to talk to. I woke up early today, but couldn't find a reason to actually get out of bed. So I just fell back asleep. I think I did that 3 times until 11:30 and decided I should get up and feed the dog. (he decided not to eat) So now I'm up here doing my morning ritual of checking emails and the like. I decided I need to write something...and even as I write it I'm feeling guilty for having these feelings. (Yes I'm taking my medication.)
I feel like a huge fat man and a big gray cloud are squishing me...smothering me.
What am I supposed to do? I look forward to Christmas every year and just about every year since my mom died it's let me down. Okay so I don't need the obvious ... I understand that if I didn't drag what I had before she died into the present then I wouldn't have this problem, but you go ahead and be me and try and do that. Or yea go ahead and have my experiences and see how well you do it. Or for that matter see how well you enjoy Christmas.
I don't know why I want Christmas to be like it was. I just do! Is that wrong??? Okay so some might say "why yes, yes it is wrong. You are trying to make things worse on yourself." And I'd like to punch them in the face. Because I don't know what I'm doing, but all I want is Christmas to be what it was like. Every year that goes by a whole lot of my mom is lost inside my brain some where. I don't remember her voice, her smell, the way she felt when I hugged her, her laugh, her smile...it's all fading away much to my disappointment and anger. It's like trying to hold on to sand. So Christmas gets around...I've always loved Christmas, and it's here again and it's time for me to try and drag up what I do remember and do what I can to relive what I had with her. For the most part Christmas didn't include screaming fights like so much of our relationship did. I just want to make Christmas an echo of what it was. And every year since she's died I can't, but every year I try. I don't know why...I just do. Call me stupid. Call me sick. Call me whatever you want, but I just want to close my eyes and remember her and what it was like at Christmas time. The books, the ornaments, the tree decorating with pizza, the fudge, the cookies, and yummy other treats. The little elf basket full of chocolate kisses and candy canes. The smells. The sticky buns in the morning and the reading of the Christmas story. (Which inevidebly starts with the Bible upside down!) The passes of the presents. The overflowing stockings. The joy on everyone's faces and then it's a day of playing with our new toys and eatting snacks and watching funny movies on tv.
I love Christmas. I hate Christmas now too.
Yes, yes I get that Christmas isn't always and only about all that. I know there's more and that I can make new traditions....but either I don't want to ... or I'm not ready. So I don't need that. I really don't. When I'm ready I will. But perhaps I'm not ready to let it all go. If I let all of that go then I've lost the last few things I'm trying so hard to remember about her.
I just wish someone else understood ... then I wouldn't feel so crazy.