Shattered-Reflections

I never pictured Christmases as an adult like this. Never in a million years did I envision there’d be Christmas that was full of me staring at the blankness of a bedroom wall- surrounded by mundane silence. Soreness in my body from taking on the world and carrying, for others, things to fill the void of this emptiness so they don’t have to experience this level of solemn.

Unfortunately my year has left me a bit too spent to cater and help them avoid all of it- I don’t have the energy to rescue and assist 🛟 them like I normally would. The year has torn from me every bit of extra energy, time and strength I could muster. There are no Christmas carols in my home this year. No tree. No lights. No joy. There hasn’t been in years.

I managed gifts for some others- and that’s all I could manage. The last few Christmases have been like this. Sorrow, tears, some booze to bear the piercing sadness I notice in my eyes when I look in the mirror -or at myself in photos. I can’t even look back at them during the year without my heart sinking. This year is no different. Why I thought it would be is beyond me.