It’s Christmas. It’s times like these that remind me how much I’ve changed. I used to be so gentle and soft-hearted and joyful. Christmas was my favorite. The magic of it all used to mesmerize me. Now, I’m cold and hard-hearted and cynical. Magic doesn’t exist, and life is mostly illusion. I see behind the curtain now, and I hate it. I want that child-like wonder back. I want to look at the sky and be amazed at the shade of blue instead of knowing that it’s just a reflection, just a light trick. I want to marvel at the beautiful flakes of snow and forget the cold, forget the slush it will become, forget the dangers that come from such frozen delights. And perhaps, it’s just the thrill of life that I miss, because all has become monotony and routine. Or maybe, I miss the endless hope of childhood, when everything in my future was bright, when I didn’t have to have a plan or be perfect. Today, I am just so tired. I am thankful and loved and warm, but I am also tired and worthless and no longer fooled by the gaiety of it all. I will never be enough, and I can never be myself. These people that love me so much only love the “me” I allow them to see, so I don’t exactly feel loved as I am. I feel that they are loving, but they are loving someone who I am not. I don’t know if that care would be afforded to the hopelessly depressed girl that I really am. Who could love and cherish darkness? We are obsessed with light, and I am the antithesis. Don’t be fooled; none of us have outgrown our fear of the dark. I don’t blame them at all. I fear it too, but I am its captive. I would never ask anyone to try and save me; that really is too much to ask. But I can hardly stand it any longer, knowing that my future is abysmal. And all my mistakes swirl in my head and make me dizzy. I could never forgive myself, and I am disgusted by my own existence. I don’t quite know what to do. You see, I like to solve problems. I am the ultimate problem, and the only way to solve the problem of “me” is to end myself. But those people who cherish the girl who shares my face. What about them? I guess, many of us have that same dilemma, huh? They don’t know that they would be better off. I have created such a “lovable” façade, so I suppose it’s my fault. Alas, so much to think about on Christmas.
By the way, you all touch my heart. I rarely post, because I don’t know what to say. I’m quiet and jumbled mostly, so I don’t comment either. But you are all special to me. I ache with you, and I wish I could bear your pain. None of you deserve what you experience. None of you. So, Merry Christmas.
6 comments
You have described how I feel better than how I could ever say it. My heart goes out to you. I just keep hoping one of these days we go back to being the people we used to be. When everything made us happy and death was the scariest thing.
Could not have said it better myself. I can’t wait to go back to work tomorrow (did i just say that?) i hate the holidays and this whole “life” thing. I just want to go far away. I do pray though (ironic) for each and everyone of you on here.
You remind me of someone i “knew.”
She also thought people only saw what she showed, only what she allowed them to see.
But what you may not realize, is that everyone reveals things about themselves, that they do not realize they are showing; most people can see more, or differently, than what you think you show.
You can control what you show, and to an extent, influence what others are allowed to observe… but you cannot control what other people perceive. They will often see things you don’t intend to show, and don’t intend for them to see; sometimes more or less accurately.
Your life behind a mask, and the fact that there are so many others who do the same, reinforces my stance that “honesty is the best policy” (because you can still make amendments and add exceptions to that policy, such as “selective disclosure”).
I can only wish the person i “knew,” would have understood such things… but she blinded herself to reason, for the sake of the facade.
Yea, I suppose you’re right. Honesty is hit and miss though. I have yet to find anyone who I was honest with who did not decide to leave me. It seems to be better for other as well to attempt the facade at least. What happened with your friend?
Last i heard, she was living “happily” oblivious in la-la land.
She didn’t like being told she was wrong, so she stopped listening.
She didn’t like that her false words didn’t produce the results she wanted, so she stopped saying anything at all.
She couldn’t stand being unable to control what i see, so she disappeared.
She was wrong, she was a liar, and she couldn’t make the truth into what she wanted me to think it was, or make me see the image she wanted me to see. And she still wanted to blame me for all that.
But in your post, you seem to have realized things she did not allow herself to accept, or at least would never admit. Good for you. I don’t really have any useful advice, though, because now that you’re surrounded by constructs of your own creation, you have to maintain them, or they’ll collapse. At some point, that maintenance may become too heavy or taxing for you, and you might have to face the consequences of “delayed honesty,” once your masks and images become too much of a burden to maintain. I honestly don’t know whether it’s better or worse, whether to just go with it until you can’t, or stop now, and change your course.
Do whatever you think you should do, based on whatever you think is most important, based on however you come to decide such things for yourself.
It is taxing. You’re right. Mostly, it’s the fact that I have to be perfect all the time, because I am afraid that people will hate me if I am imperfect. I am under no illusions that others do think I am perfect, but each mistake, each flaw etches away at their love until I am alone. So each flaw eats away at me, and the fear makes me avoid new relationships. It is more lonely than anything. There’s really no advice to give someone like me. I am very aware of my options; I am simply paralyzed, because one more blow could end me.