It was such a content time for us. Warmth, despite the freezing temperatures. Joy despite the usual melancholy. A time of year we could be hopeful for. The lights and the colors were like forcefields around our minds. It was like the "holiday cheer" put our parents into a daze. Their usual bitterness and rage was set aside, and for a short few months my heart was full. Almost full enough to push away the usual miserableness, at least for a little while. The colors in my mind shifted from dark reds to yellows and greens, like headlamps and stop lights when they reflect off of wet pavement at night.
But that's not the case anymore. Holidays are just like the rest of them. The lights and colors trigger a seasonal depression that I plead every night will go away. Every single memory stings. The euphoric feelings we associated with Christmas are replaced with burning eyes and pits in my stomach with every passing tradition. Hanging ornaments on the tree is like hanging a piece of my mind without them. We used to laugh, and joke together. Holidays were the only times we got hugs or any affection at all. Now my body craves that feeling. But now they're gone; making the choice of addiction and partying over those special family moments we used to share.
It hurts so bad everytime I think of how it used to be. I get sick. Absolutely repulsed to think of what we had. Every Christmas I was so hopeful that in the new year those family moments would last, even multiply. But they never did. It always went right back to his it was. Carols replaced by shattered glass, screams, and cries. Murmurs of love replaced with threats and angry utterances. The fullness of my heart drained with every needle she pressed to her skin. Even though the weather was warmer the atmosphere was icy. Almost as sharp as the glass shattered on the living room floor.
So now I loathe the holidays. They were the the only happiness I felt as a child. The only time I could be a kid, act my own age. Responsibilities were given back to the adults and for a short time I could enjoy what a childhood was supposed to be.
YOU ARE READING
Dysfunctional Thoughts
De TodoA place to dump the words my mouth can't learn to say.