It's not like Christmas at all...
16 days and counting. I don't remember exactly when Christmas stopped feeling like Christmas, but I remember feeling let down year after year when it did not meet my childhood expectations anymore. Lost was the fun, lost was the frivolity, lost was the magic. There used to be something so mystical about the blanket of snow and quiet that fell on Christmas Eve, but now there is only rain and mud. It goes so much deeper than weather patterns, but that is all I ever really associated it with. Though the magic is gone, I still enjoy the time with my family. As I see our relationships straining more and more and the wrinkles growing ever-deeper, I know that our time is numbered. Someday they all will die, just as I will. Then there will be a time when all of us are not even a distant memory anymore. Existing is hard, especially during the holidays.
This week was hard. It was one of those weeks where you fall asleep knowing tomorrow is going to be difficult and then you awake thinking how horrible the day will be. Thinking about Kayla and how much I miss her never brightens my mood. I know memories of her should, but they all seem so tainted now, and I feel ashamed to feel that way. Her smile and laugh are ever present in my mind, especially this week, but it all just seems too painful now. Though you cannot blame her (and I don't), because you know people are never truly aware of what they are doing when they take their own lives. It's hard to imagine where the year went.
When I think that it is bordering on 2 1/2 years since Erin and Esther died, I feel lost in time. The years slip away just like the people do. I still think about them every few days. It's harder to remember Erin's laugh and Esther's smile, and I know someday I will forget their laughs and smiles altogether. They will just be ideas of my lost childhood, of friends who have past, of the happiness that life could obtain but seems to always lose.
Everyday is just this uphill battle so that we can fall asleep, forget, and start the same battle the next day. Each week, month, year, and decade is the same. We strive for this idea of perfection and feel constantly upset that we can never attain it. Maybe it is just the Christmas season that makes people so much more unhappier because they know that they're suppose to be happy but find themselves no happier than if it were April 26th or August 9th. Maybe Christmas does not feel like Christmas because I am too old now to be ignorantly happy. The world is at such constant unrest, people are dying, people are hurt. It just goes and goes and it does not stop for Christmas.
Call me cynic, call me depressed, call me a realist -- all I know is that come December 25th, I will be just as let down as I have been for the past several years. The world will still be at war, people will still be dead, and disease will still spread.
Just Like Christmas
by Low
"on our way from stockholm
it started to snow
and you said it was like christmas
but you were wrong
it wasn't like christmas at all
by the time we got to oslo
the snow was gone
and we got lost
the beds were small
but we felt so young
it was just like christmas"
This week was hard. It was one of those weeks where you fall asleep knowing tomorrow is going to be difficult and then you awake thinking how horrible the day will be. Thinking about Kayla and how much I miss her never brightens my mood. I know memories of her should, but they all seem so tainted now, and I feel ashamed to feel that way. Her smile and laugh are ever present in my mind, especially this week, but it all just seems too painful now. Though you cannot blame her (and I don't), because you know people are never truly aware of what they are doing when they take their own lives. It's hard to imagine where the year went.
When I think that it is bordering on 2 1/2 years since Erin and Esther died, I feel lost in time. The years slip away just like the people do. I still think about them every few days. It's harder to remember Erin's laugh and Esther's smile, and I know someday I will forget their laughs and smiles altogether. They will just be ideas of my lost childhood, of friends who have past, of the happiness that life could obtain but seems to always lose.
Everyday is just this uphill battle so that we can fall asleep, forget, and start the same battle the next day. Each week, month, year, and decade is the same. We strive for this idea of perfection and feel constantly upset that we can never attain it. Maybe it is just the Christmas season that makes people so much more unhappier because they know that they're suppose to be happy but find themselves no happier than if it were April 26th or August 9th. Maybe Christmas does not feel like Christmas because I am too old now to be ignorantly happy. The world is at such constant unrest, people are dying, people are hurt. It just goes and goes and it does not stop for Christmas.
Call me cynic, call me depressed, call me a realist -- all I know is that come December 25th, I will be just as let down as I have been for the past several years. The world will still be at war, people will still be dead, and disease will still spread.
Just Like Christmas
by Low
"on our way from stockholm
it started to snow
and you said it was like christmas
but you were wrong
it wasn't like christmas at all
by the time we got to oslo
the snow was gone
and we got lost
the beds were small
but we felt so young
it was just like christmas"