Christmas

by Rie

Because Christmas and the impending new year deserves a post.

The depression has receded – hasn’t quite been replaced with Christmas cheer – and the anxiety has been dammed in.

But it’s strange. I have enough reasons to be sad. (I sometimes wonder if I have lost my ability to feel.) What does it mean when you’re simultaneously happy that the numbness isn’t sadness and confused because the numbness should be sadness?

I dispute my use of the word “enough”. When I was depressed, I didn’t need occasion to be depressed. All I had to do was lie down. (Does that sound pathetic? I am indifferent to being pathetic, now. Maybe I have come to terms with it.)

My dog is dead. My little girl is buried.

I just needed to say that somewhere.

Even if no one understands.

This post is patchwork. I haven’t made such a mess in a while.

I can’t write. I’m trying to address and express the emotions I know lie latent.

But I can’t. Not yet. I don’t know what this is.

I am sad but not depressed. I am scared but not anxious. Then, I am nothing and I am numb.

Christmas – full of cheer and consumerism – came and went like a calendar day. I suspect the New Year shall do the same. I want to paint my face and be someone else. I want to write a different self into existence.

I just want to be. I don’t feel as if I am.

I want to say I’ll come back and edit this; I know I’m being incoherent. But this post belongs here. It is an accurate representation.

Now, I shall be quiet.

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