My Christmas tree has no lights. According to an article in the paper this morning, there is a Christmas light shortage. We have been to many, many stores but there are no lights.

I have never had a tree without lights. Actually, it doesn’t have any ornaments either because I have been waiting to put the lights on before decorating it. At first I was upset about there being no lights. I mean, come on, Christmas comes the same time every year. You would think the Christmas tree light makers would have figured out the supply and demand thing by now.

There was a time, before I quit drinking and was treated for depression and bipolar, that a dark tree would have put me over the edge. Seriously. It was exactly things like a Christmas light shortage that would have had me frantically calling every store that might ever have sold a light bulb and finally getting on line and paying an arm and leg to have lights shipped to me overnight.

But, there she is, my $60 Christmas tree, listing in a dark corner of my living room. Naked. I’m taking it as an omen or divine intervention or a stigmata or something. Maybe there is a lesson in this. Last week I was pretty uptight about not being in the Christmas spirit. I had made a decision to take Christmas down a notch this year and was feeling guilty about my decision.

But as I sit here writing, with my dog curled up under my desk and my naked Christmas tree in the corner, I’m feeling pretty good about Christmas and myself. A year ago I was having such a rough time that my nurse practitioner had to adjust my meds. Life is weird.

The cool thing about my naked tree is that it has shown me the progress that I have made. All those little baby steps I have been taking over the last few years just seemed like little baby steps until something happens – like a Christmas light shortage – and I don’t freak out. This is huge progress. Finally, I am wearing my life like a big, comfy old sweatshirt instead of a pair of Spanx.

If I keep this up, next year I might be able to listen to Paul McCartney sing that annoyingly chipper “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time” song without wanting to scream. Or not.

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From Psych Central's website:
PsychCentral (December 17, 2009)

    Last reviewed: 16 Dec 2009