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Thursday, December 25, 2014

An Indictment of December



December is the cruelest month. I have always found it to be far worse than April.

December is a time for alienation. Those of us who are less-than and too much just don't enjoy this time of year. It always feels like the Christmas Joy being spread is for other people and not us. We don't get that in our lives.

Not us. We less-thans and too muches don't fit in all of that. We know that when we drive by a tavern at night and see it lit up with people inside laughing, that's not for us. We know that none of our friends are inside and if we went in, nobody would even know who we were.

House after house full of people, lights, trees, candles and laughter. None of it for us. And if we were invited, it would feel like sandpaper on our teeth. Instead, most of us go home to our empty apartments and houses, only to watch a movie or surf the web.

We less-thans and too muches simply do not belong. The happiness, the joy, the comfort—all of it is for those other people.

We are at our most vulnerable in our loneliness.

December is when we remember those we've lost. There is a gaping hole where those people should be and nothing can fill it. But the loss isn't nearly as bad as the memories. Those shadows that sing to us and re-create those wonderful times we once had only to remind us that we were happy once. Yes, a long time ago, we were happy.

December is when those empty spaces next to us are canyons. And as we see happy couples around us, we are reminded of just cold and dark the nights can be. 

December is when we realize all we were promised in the previous months, all that was held out for us to have and be, was nothing more than bullshit.  

December is when we recall being the victims of others. The slurred speeches from drunken people claiming to love us still ring in our ears.

December is when people tell us about all the crap they bought and in our heads we convert it to rent payments, tanks of gas, groceries, power bills, and all the other stuff we need to survive. And then we realize that no matter what we wanted to do for somebody, we never could, because we're a less-than and a too much and too broke.

December is wrong for all the wrong reasons. It's a time we're told to be happy and we simply are not. It's a time when we're supposed to feel close to the people around us and somehow that distance seems stretched. December is when we count down in anticipation of a day that means cramped, stuffy rooms full of people we normally would never associate with while we are told to feel emotions we do not feel.

December reminds me of the dystopian futures where evil tyrannical governments place signs everywhere that scream at us to be happy no matter how unhappy we feel. And only if we submitted ourselves to the to the insanity around us we would feel comfort and joy.

Every day in December feels like the morning despair after a failed suicide attempt.

There is no Santa Claus. No special elf will come save us. No Father Christmas or magical snowman will show up on our front lawn. The ghosts of Christmas are only in our memories and serve only as our tormentors. No angels will visit.  Nobody will come in at the 11th hour and save us. 

There is nothing.

This is my last December. I'm not going to die, but instead I'm going to re-name this fucking month and make my own holidays. No more of this shit. I realize now that I cannot walk away from the past if it keeps coming back up every 12 months like a shitty Friday the 13th sequel. And I will never have the reality being force-fed to us as soon as Halloween ends.

Those of us who are less-than and too much can change only so much, but this is certainly in our power and grasp. We don't have to live like this. And as I write this, it is Christmas Eve and I am so emotionally drained I simply no longer care about much of anything.

We are at our most vulnerable in our loneliness.

I am already working on a new paradigm for the final month of the year. It is one that doesn't include a lot of the gibberish and bullshit we've become accustomed to and replaces that with something more creative and relevant. Those of us who are less-thans and too muches don't need to spend this bleak midwinter feeling like hungry ghosts. It doesn't have to be like this.

Fuck December.
Fuck Christmas.
There is nothing.

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