Where Has Christmas Gone?
I sit here, in my beloved new car, Scarlett, a brand new 2016 Ford Focus I got in late September. It’s 12 minutes till midnight on Christmas Eve. I just got off work at my retail store. I worked the last 5 straight days on the run up till Christmas.
It was a nightmare, of course. Tonight was no exception. I broke down yesterday and today at about 9 p.m. each night. I had been doing well with my moods and anxiety lately. I had not cried but once this month. However, the combination of the jolly, procrastinating assholes running around ruthlessly raping and pillaging the shelves, and thus, ruining my methodical facing up of the products to make them look nice for the next day, and deep, deep penetrating aches of loneliness and emptiness . . . made me break down hard.
Everything crashed on me at once. It was if a giant beast was beating on me with a club, and I finally went down. I cried hard in the bathroom, “my office,” as I call it. It’s the only place that I can have some privacy. I’ve cried many times in there in the last year.
It is now Christmas Day 2016. Two minutes after midnight. It’s finally come. I have not watched my favorite movies, I have not decorated, I have not bought many presents for people. There just didn’t seem to be time. There is a tree up in the house where I rent a room. The landlady and her husband like me and treat me somewhat like family, except for when the rent is late.
I wanted to go to midnight mass after work, but that was before I broke. I haven’t been to a Catholic mass for decades. It would have been nice. I guess I could go tomorrow. Catholicism and I have had a rough relationship. I always felt it was too restrictive and ridiculous. But, you tend to want to hang on to things that comfort you from your past. Once I got to church, it was okay. I just never wanted to go. I had a LOT of religious ed over those years. I felt like I had a friend in the sky who was watching over me.
It’s 2:04 a.m. now. I drove home the long way looking for a Catholic church I saw on Google. I didn’t see that one but I enjoyed the trip over Kirker Pass Rd., which let me see not only the lights of the vast Diablo Valley, but the vast Delta cities on the other side. All was calm. Traffic was light. I drove slow and just listened to Christmas music.
I really should go to sleep. I’d love to get up early, which I never do, and have a full day including Christmas Mass. I always have these plans. But, usually I stay up too late enjoying the silence and calm. Any anxiety is usually minimal to non-existent at that time. I have admitted to myself that I am prone to self-destructive behavior. Yes, staying up late is one of those. But for the last year, it’s been the only time I can enjoy the silence and calm. That is followed by sleep, which is usually peaceful.
The mornings are usually a rude awakening. I am better than last year thank God. However, I still wake up with varying degrees of anxiety and lethargy. The cycle starts again. Hence why I enjoy the nights. Last year I was in bad shape. I’d get up and start trembling and having lots of weird feelings. I used to pray that it would at least get better. It has, but I guess I want to be 100%. I still don’t know what causes it.
Why am I lonely on Christmas? Because I stupidly followed a foolish dream and moved to California. Why did I do it? Because if I didn’t, I would have never known what it was like. I didn’t like South Carolina. I yearned for The Wild West. That turned out only a little better than The Donner Party did in the snowy Rockies. I was smart and crossed the Rockies in late September. I survived.
Back to Christmas, it’s now 2:28 a.m. My kitty and I are on my comfy little twin bed in my 11×13 room. I almost feel like I am still a kid, and Mom and Dad are busy wrapping our presents downstairs. There are a couple of presents for me down there under our pencil tree. I never did get a chance to put my ornaments on it.
I just feel like I need more than this. What is my purpose? I always feel lonely and far away from everything. Should I really dig in and try to put down roots here and hope that the loneliness fades? Or do I do something else, go somewhere else? I’ve gone about as far west as I could without running out of land. Alaska is too cold and Hawaii is probably not an option. I’d REALLY feel isolated there.
What is my next move, back home to the East where my love for Christmas was born? I used to really, really love Christmas. I’d enjoy the run up to it and actually be a little let down when all of the crinkling and ripping of presents had subsided and night fell on Christmas Day. It was back to reality, much like my mornings are now after my nights. I suppose reality makes me anxious because it’s uncertain and scary.
I admit, I love to be comfortable and safe. I feel that right now, here, on my bed with my lava-rock-black kitty, Kona laying on my leg. The pressure of her body feels warm and comfortable. It feels good to have another being snuggle up to me. She gently paws my leg and twitches as she dreams whatever cats dream. She is a good friend, essentially my unofficial service animal.
It’s now 2:45 a.m. Time to wrap it up. Christmas is now near 3 hours old. On the East coast, the kiddies are starting to come downstairs and trying to get exhausted Mom and Dad up. It’s time for crinkling and tearing followed by shrieks of joy. I hope to recapture some of that later today. I missed the Christmas run up, but maybe, I can enjoy the day. Welcome Christmas, Christmas Day.
Category: Transgender Body & Soul