07 December 2012

once upon a december.

it is december.

december is one of my favorite months. yes, i am one of those people who has favorite (october) and least-favorite (september) months. december is dear to my heart, because so much kindness was extended to my family in december, throughout many of my childhood years. i realize the last part of that sentence may not make sense. can we roll with it?

i grew up poor...ish. we weren't terribly poor. my parents owned our house. we had two cars. i had my own bedroom. we had food and clothing and such. but my dad spent almost as much of my childhood being unemployed as he did being employed. we were...blessed? to have a great support system of family and friends and neighbors and benevolent strangers who made sure that we had food and clothing, and even toys and things for my brother(s) and myself. many christmases, my dad was out of work. december is tied to my memories of the goodness bestowed on my family by others, and the gratitude we felt toward those who were willing to help us out.

i love december.

consequently, december and the christmas-y season are connected to religion. and each year, as i grow older and my spirituality moves in directions that do not line up with the trajectory of the religion in which i was raised, not even my memories of kindness from others can fill the chasm that grows in my chest where my gratitude toward a Savior of the World once was.

december makes me sad.

i realize that when i talk to people who know about my disenchanted attitude toward both the mormon faith and organized religion as a whole, it may come across that my concerns pertain toward gender equity and the lack thereof within the church. i'm not denying that gender equity is a big concern for me within any structure that i belong to. however, it is not my only concern.

if the first presidency were to come out tomorrow and say that women can hold the priesthood and be ordained to callings like being a general authority and that we should pray to a heavenly mother and that women should choose for themselves whether marriage or motherhood or both are right for them, i wouldn't be able to drop my agnosticism and run back to the church.

it isn't just a question of whether or not i can be equal to my brothers in the eyes of the church, or of god. though those are important questions.

and so, each december, i think about what i believe in. and what i believe in no longer. and what i thought i believed, but never did. and what i thought i didn't believe, but really do. and i realize that i am not one of the "believers." i do not celebrate christmas because of my belief in jesus and what his birth meant for the world. maybe it happened like that. maybe not. maybe some catholics kidnapped a pagan holiday and held it hostage until american corporations took control of the situation and convinced us that we need to buy massive amounts of shit we don't need with money we don't have. i'm more inclined to buy into the latter story than the former (jesus was born in april, right?). but, despite my apostatic cynicism, i love christmas for what it represents in my life: good people giving of themselves to people who are in need of help.

bye for now.

04 December 2012

i know blue...only blue.

i feel so lonely.

lonely and alone are different. i know i am not alone. i am surrounded by wonderful people. i live with my grandparents, who are toeing the line between being parental and being adult housemates. they are always looking out for me. my cousins/soul-sisters keep me sane. i tell them the random mundane frustrations of my life, and they stand with me in solidarity. my brothers worry about me -- and the fact that i am on their radar is enough for me. my mother is incredible. she has my back. she gives me a shoulder to cry on. she plays the strong one so i get to be scared. because sometimes i need to not have to be the strong one. sometimes i need to just be scared. my coworkers are very sweet, keeping me laughing. my dear friend ami makes sure i know how much i'm loved, which is something that i have a tendency to forget. and my beloved bestie. that man keeps me grounded. every person needs a good anchor. so. i know i am not alone.

why, then, do i feel so lonely?

i'm going to play psychiatrist and say that this is depression eating my soul. i feel like i have so much to deal with, and that i have to do it all on my own. i don't want to burden other people...especially when those people have their own burdens to carry. i feel ugly. i feel unwanted. i feel abandoned. i feel terrified.

i feel like i need to break down and do the ugly cry on my bedroom floor, but the fucking tears won't come.

i feel like i need a release. a vacation from my life. some good karma.

i feel like people are trying to give me what they think i need. and that is very sweet of them. i appreciate the sentiment. but i feel like i'm not getting what i need, and i feel like i'm too afraid to ask for it.

how do you ask your bestie for a hug when you're non-hug people? how do you ask him to hold you so you can just cry, or catch your breath?

how do you ask your family to understand that your spirituality is moving in a different direction than they want it to? how do you explain that your sexuality isn't some college-aged act of rebellion? how do you make them understand that you will love them no matter what, and only want that same support in return?

how do you cope with the aching inside you that tells you your time is running out? whether it's terminal illness or chronic illness or mental illness or this debilitating fear of success. how do you choose to divvy up your time when you feel like you have so little of it left?

how do you move forward when you cannot see a future with you in it?

i feel so lonely.

bye for now.