A Bleak, Depressing Christmas Post. You’ve Been Warned.

December 22, 2007

Well, if I wait until I’m feeling better, it will be a long time before I post anything, so I’m going to write a little here, just to stay in practice.

For some mysterious reason, I’m feeling pretty down right now. There’s no explanation for this that I can come up with, so I’m just trying to ride out the storm, and act as if everything’s okay, because the reality is that, well, everything’s more than okay.

The past week or so has been extremely frustrating. My thinking’s been foggy, my body hurts, the mood’s been low, and I feel sort of disconnected. I’m not sure if it’s the fibromyalgia, menopausey stuff, our tenuous financial situation or just plain old depression, but it’s frustrating me to no end. All I want to do is feel like myself again.

I have so much to be thankful for. It’s Christmas, and I’ve got a loving, supportive boyfriend, a wonderful family, a roof over my head and twinkling lights on the tree. These feelings have nothing to do with anything external, and I’m anxiously awaiting a return to my “normal” self (which, if you read this blog, you know is anything but normal).

Tom says that I need to “get it out,” and talk about it. He says that I tend to go inward when I feel this way, and he’s right. The reason is this: I have absolutely nothing to complain about. When I look around and put this into perspective, the mountainous hardships that others face make mine seem like tiny little dust motes in comparison.

I know this is a really downer post. I don’t mean it to be. But here’s how I’m sort of feeling right now. As I internally whine and complain about my less-than-stellar mood, my aching body, or my dire straits, I’m staying mindful of those who have nothing. As much of the world fights over parking spaces, argues with sales clerks, and complains of shopping yet to do, or of presents still to wrap, I think about the people in New Orleans who are still displaced. I worry about those who live in parts of the world where they can’t even leave their homes and feel safe, and those whose wish lists consist of nothing more than food, shelter, clothing, and peace. When my body hurts, I think about people confined to wheelchairs who’d kill to be able to do the things I do on any given day. As I sit here missing friends and family, I feel so exceedingly grateful for the kind and loving people who are in my world, regardless of the number of miles that separate us.

Recently, I came upon an article about Kwanzaa and its traditions. There are seven guiding principals, which I think are quite beautiful. Here they are:

  • Umoja (oo-MO-jah) Unity stresses the importance of togetherness for the family and the community, which is reflected in the African saying, “I am We,” or “I am because We are.”
  • Kujichagulia (koo-gee-cha-goo-LEE-yah) Self-Determination requires that we define our common interests and make decisions that are in the best interest of our family and community.
  • Ujima (oo-GEE-mah) Collective Work and Responsibility reminds us of our obligation to the past, present and future, and that we have a role to play in the community, society, and world.
  • Ujamaa (oo-JAH-mah) Cooperative economics emphasizes our collective economic strength and encourages us to meet common needs through mutual support.
  • Nia (NEE-yah) Purpose encourages us to look within ourselves and to set personal goals that are beneficial to the community.
  • Kuumba (koo-OOM-bah) Creativity makes use of our creative energies to build and maintain a strong and vibrant community.
  • Imani (ee-MAH-nee) Faith focuses on honoring the best of our traditions, draws upon the best in ourselves, and helps us strive for a higher level of life for humankind, by affirming our self-worth and confidence in our ability to succeed and triumph in righteous struggle.

Nice, huh?

This mood will pass, and when it’s gone, I’ll still be left with the amazing gifts that are a daily part of my life (this includes you, dear reader). In the meantime, I wish you all truly beautiful holidays, no matter what you celebrate.


4 Responses to “A Bleak, Depressing Christmas Post. You’ve Been Warned.”

  1. Little Miss Says:

    You and I are in the same place, dear MB. I understand, and even though we know that there are others worse off than we are, it is all relative. It still hurts, it’s still depressing, even if there is no apparent good reason. I don’t have an answer, other than the plaque sitting in my kitchen, by the coffee pot, that says, “No day is so bad it can’t be fixed with a nap.”

    Cyberhugs back at ya.

  2. @ LM: I read this after waking up from my nap! Thank you for the words of wisdom, and the hugs. It’ll get better for both of us soon. And seriously, I do think Kias are cool.

  3. Nothin’ can depress Alex and me tonight.

    May you have a Joyous & Merry Christmas!

    May peace and plenty be the first to lift the latch on your door, and happiness be guided to your home by the candle of Christmas. (A Celtic Blessing)

  4. @ Nick: Thank you so, so much for the truly beautiful blessing. I’m sending my best wishes to you and Alex, and hope you have a lovely, joyous Christmas.

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