Every year at 4pm Christmas Eve (we celebrate christmas on christmas eve, not christmas day) the people in my neighborhood get together in the middle, on the playground, to walk around the christmas tree and sing carols. Every year, no matter how bad I’v been, I’ve always gone out there. No matter how much the anxiety has been bothering me I’ve faced my fears and gone out there, and been together with them in this wonderful tradition. I’ve loved it. Holding hands, walking around the tree, singing carol after carol. Hearing the cracking voices of people who can’t sing, and the seldom voice who carries through it all. Every year, as long as this tradition has existed, I’ve been out there, but not this year.
I’m grateful that I got leave from the hospital to spend the evening with my family. But sitting in my room hearing them singing through the crack in my window, it breaks my heart. That’s my life. But it’s not. Because right now my life is in here, sitting alone on the outside. I’m not part of what used to be my life anymore. Everything has changed. I know walking around the christmas tree is a small thing, but it just says something about my entire life at the moment. I’m not able to be a part of the things and experiences that defined my life. I’m dead already. But I’m not.
I wish you and yours the very best christmas ever! And if it’s not, if it sucks, I wish you one happy moment, where you can smile and be grateful for that one moment. Merry Christmas!