B E B E R E

Hitting a wall? Or just feeling my way around one?

Wanted to get some knitting done last night and the night before, but didn't. Not very good for production when you get out of work late, wander for an hour in the dark, and then are so tired that all you want to do is flop into bed without dinner.

One aspect (of many) of holiday time I dislike is the feeling that I have to be in production all these weeks. Producing cookies, producing cards, producing gifts. Ordinarily I knit to amuse myself. I don't particularly enjoy it when I feel I should be doing it. Idem for baking and corresponding. Forget about shopping: even if I weren't in my current state of penury (This month's choice was groceries vs phone and oil. Phone and oil won out.), I'd not hit the stores. I detest shopping even during the non-rush times of the year, so why torture myself even further by doing so during the Christmas rush?

Holidays were nice for a time when I was little, but became miserable later on. When I became of the age where I couldn't get messed with financially by vindictive adults, I stopped going back to the family for holidays. Spent quite a few happy, quiet Thanksgivings, Christmas and New Years alone (How to do that? Simple: lie to all your well-meaning friends who think you shouldn't spend holidays alone. Tell them you have plans.). Recent years have seen me with those I call adopted family and the guy's family. Though am thankful for their taking me in (particularly my adopted mom in Connecticut - had me spend the weekend with her the year my one grandmother died and the other was dying. Made me a stocking and filled it up with toys. Never had a stocking before. Yes, I cried.), I am starting to feel like I need quiet again. No travel, no running around, no screaming children, no nothing. I want stillness and rest and reflection. There's so little of that right now.

It's not just the memory of sad holidays past that's making me feel so scroogelike and unspirited - there are other things: A dying grandfather who's trying to get hospice, but who's getting harassed to have invasive surgery instead. A mother who can't take care of herself, who is befuddled by everything going on, and who calls regularly to post the same reports over and over. A new and improved breast lump. A job where I'm underpaid and unappreciated, where there's no chance to improve myself or move forward. Essentially, I'm just marking time (Only 219 days...but who's counting!) in this limbo until I'm vested in the pension. Expanding my mind, healing my body and keeping up skills are all on hold due to cost of living. (Again - choices, choices...one hour of piano lessons or two weeks' worth of groceries? Another course and textbooks or rent?) I hope that I'm not sounding like I'm complaining. This triaging stuff gets a bit tiresome, is all. Am also feeling a bit homesick after my Thanksgiving visit which was so much fun.

I'm struggling mightily with possible realities here:

I'm weak, I'm whiny. I'm never happy. (There are kids in India breaking bricks for a living, for crying out loud. What's my problem?)

I'm depressed. (First diagnosis: mild dysthymia - glass-half-empty syndrome. Current diagnosis: adjustment problems - under a lot of stress, will get over it.)

I'm at a fork in the road and am struggling to choose which direction to take. (There's a reason why I'm marking time and why I know how long until my anniversary date. Don't want to talk about it too much, as don't want to jinx it.)

How I deal with my present and how I mold my future both hinge on how I choose to view myself. Am hoping that things will be clearer once I get through the emotional fog that the next couple weeks are for me. For now, I'll just do what I must to keep up the strength, to get what's required of me taken care of, to pull myself across the December 31 finish line. All major obstacles now, but still surmountable.