Yesterday, I was worrying about other people.
I was enjoying Christmas with family and friends, getting way too many gifts, being spoiled with food and hugs and love.
What about everyone else? Were they getting the love they deserved?
I was happy, secure, at one with the Holy Spirit. It was a joyous day.
Unfortunately, inevitably, the brightness started to fade.
The realization of the Christmas holiday coming to a close started to set in.
I was cranky. I don’t know what it was exactly–exhaustion from weeks of festivities, anticipation, and busy days and nights? Perhaps it was that I had to work while my husband and the rest of my family spent the long weekend off.
Part of it was I had no reason to stay happy. I managed to make it through Christmas Eve night and Christmas Day with a smile on my face. I told myself not to worry or think about the future–It’s Christmas, for Christ’s sake.
I woke up four times last night. I went down to the couch. I cried and prayed.
Why is my happiness so short-lived? Am I only able to leave the anxiety and depression behind for a short time? Is it rationed to holidays?
It’s frustrating. I can only stay content for a short time, and just like clockwork, as the distractions end, I am again worrying about my future, my fate, living in constant fear and discouraging myself with my negative thoughts.
Why is it that I can use Jesus’s birth as bait to leave my fears behind, but I can’t grab it and run with it on the 23rd, or the 26th?
Haven’t I learned anything this year?
This is one of the things I don’t want to carry into 2014.
I’m pretty sure last year I was thinking the same thing.
Buddha, mental health experts, my mother–they all tell me that worrying is toxic and pointless. I hear it. I have read countless books and teachings.
I’m 25, and I’m still crying the night after Christmas.
What is it? I think I have a squashed child inside of me. I have a lot of emotions stuffed down that I don’t know what to do with.
Part of my fear is that true happiness will never come–that I can only grasp like a desperate fool onto holidays and family events, and once they are gone, my life is meaningless.
I admit it–it’s hard for me to find meaning in daily life.
I know that is where I’m supposed to find the meaning–in the little things. I read it, I hear it. I can’t accept it.
I did a 25-day Bible study for Christmas. Each and every day, I reflected on one of the most important themes from the Christmas story–Christ is here, and he is accessible every day of the year.
I considered that for 25 days, and when I woke up today, it was lost upon me.
I was disappointed in myself for doing God that way. I’m putting effort into my faith, but I’m not sold on the basic principles.
I am too close to pain, too much.
Why can I let go of the past and the future?
I can’t practice what I preach or say I believe.
I am a prisoner to the things I say to myself and the memories I choose to conjure.
I still don’t know how to let go of pain and experience the joy. It’s almost as if joy is too bright and painful.
I don’t know how to react.
It’s a mystery that continues to baffle me.
I’m trying to bounce back. For some reason I’m hurt and disappointed and anxious.
I look at my Christmas tree and feel sadness. Why can’t I stay happy? Why does it take that lit tree to make me feel whole?