It has become increasingly clear that the holidays are not my favorite time of year. It may result from my lack of fortitude in dealing with the society I am surrounded by but I do not know for sure.
As a child, it was a happy time of year for me. My childhood was as inconsistently marred by a need for maturity as it was bolstered by moments of innocent joy. No complaints...not anymore. My mother made sacrifice after sacrifice and there was just no way for me to be grateful enough. Even still, I sicken myself with reflection; changing, growing & improving. Somehow, I have failed to progress even a scintilla, in regards to the holiday season. Some may even argue that I have regressed.
I am a exceedingly thoughtful person. I am not capable of showing displays of purposeless affection, at least, not as I understand it. Meat & potatoes, all day, over here. If you need something, you let me know and I do what I can to help improve that situation. You want a Christmas gift? I'll end up buying the most expensive and pointless thing I can afford. I have been no good at displaying thoughtfulness in that regard. Well, there are the rare occasions but those are by far outweighed by the usual.
In all of this, I have been doing so very poorly these last few years. Mentally, I'm alright. Financially, I haven't been making anything happen and I've been seriously trying to understand how anybody could make anything happen with things being the way they are. What world am I seeing that everyone else finds a way in, while I fail to find anyway that works? What is my biggest obstacle to making progress towards being a reliable and contributing member of my family and the greater society? Who knows?
Let's take a step back. A decade ago, I stepped into a new world of sorts. Dating. Much of my life has been about my interest in women, yet I abstained for the simple concept of discipline(plus, I was a bit more religious back then). Immediately, I learned that people do what they want and fuck you, because well, fuck you. Back when I was younger and unaware of how negativity can leash your heart to emotions based on the time of year, I allowed my resentment to fester in a small wounds and make it much worse. Year after year, I incurred a new wound yet I kept my hopes up. Perhaps, that is what makes me the most "not sane" as I kept trying the consistent, tried and true formula of success, in regards to dating during the holidays: Family first.
Year after year, my emotion climbs high and plummets low. I'm tossed about in an emotionally chaotic fervor of disregard. Yet, I refuse to allow those moments to mark my turning points. I weighed the overall disappointments against the goods and swallowed my sense of pride. I wish people were better people. The winter comes around, bringing the holidays in tow and that's when the ugliness begins to show. My childhood, being what it was, I understand how people have a hard time adjusting each year but their issues are theirs; my issues are mine, except, that's not how it worked out.
Now, years later, I've become a harbinger of horror filled holidays. Much of my internal haranguing never meets the ether or the air, still, it makes a difference. Even as I refuse to speak the negativity, it weighs on my conscience and drowning my thoughts in sadness. I suffer silently. This act erodes my vitality. Enduring such rigors occupies my mind and exhausts me to the point where I neglect my intentions of preparing for the imminent exchanges of consideration and affection. Then I wake up on December 23rd with an empty bank account and no gifts and another year of disappointment in self. Do you know how many nieces and nephews I have? And I don't do for any of them. Not a one. I feel like a pitiful uncle because I wanted to be so much better than that. Truth is, I'm not. I have a hard enough time dealing with my own issues and it's an excuse. I shouldn't allow anything to stop me from being the way I want to be and typically nothing does; except during the holiday.
This year, I want to pull out all the stops. I plan on working my fingers to the bone. If I only ever get one year right, this year has to be the year. If I drop dead from exhaustion and this is my last post, I really hope I gave those who read my words, something worthwhile or even slightly amusing or entertaining or whatever. I am simply tired of the idea that I'll be the same "me" each year. I refuse to allow this jaded bitterness to consume me simply because I keep failing to meet my desire with enough "will" and ambition to make it happen.
Sure, I've probably had it a lot smoother than a lot of folks have had it. My parents really are something else. Still, they contributed to me. For all the good and bad that come with my existence, they share the load of carrying. I have done some amazing things. I'd like to think I've saved a life or two; inspired a soul or two; urged people to be better but I'll never really know. I really just tried to avoid making people worse for knowing me.
If I do make it through these holidays, I probably won't be posting anything new until the new year. I plan on being really strict about my adherence to this determination I'm pledging at this moment. Thanks for everything up until now. Wish me luck.
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