December is coming

It's a terrible fall morning where it's cold, damp, and the clouds are floating by ominously in a depressing grey sky. Perfect description of how autumn feels for me. I don't get excited about pumpkin spice or the leaves changing colors as I know December is coming. It starts in mid-September when summer is over, and Target puts the Christmas decorations out. My stomach clenches and I try to shove down the emotions coming up. The holidays aren't a happy time for me as they bring up decades of anxiety, loss, and sadness. Each year I ask myself what I can do to get through them and yet it remains just as painful. What I'm feeling is different this time as it's not just the holidays, but what December itself was last year. 

I wrote that the ground had disappeared the day before I tried to kill myself. Saying I tried isn't fully true, as I didn't have a plan in place, and instead spent an entire night wailing alone to a computer screen that I wanted it done, I couldn't take another second, I hated myself and my life and didn't want to be here. It was the winter solstice, the darkest night of the year, and the irony isn't lost on me. I'd hoped to fly to Mexico so I wouldn't have to see the happy people and their pictures and hope and all I didn't have. My unemployment ran out earlier that week so not only would I not be internationally traveling, but I also didn't know how I was going to survive. I was terrified. 

I'm still so terrified. 2 months without ketamine, and though not a mood booster or antidepressant, it's been shown to at least stabilize me enough to where I don't dive headfirst off a bridge onto the highway. The scream sobbing is back and it's everything in me to get through social interactions without tears. I can make it through a performance and somehow switch off my mind once I'm on stage, but most drives home I can barely see through the tears. I'm on medication, extra for panic attacks, seeing a psychiatrist, going back to ketamine after 2 months off, writing daily, and I hate every second of it. "You have to keep trying!" Hey Pollyana, I actually don't have to keep trying. I can end it at any moment. 

There is only one Christmas I can think of where I felt happiness. I wanted a Barbie swimming pool more than anything and with all the Christmas gifts of red and green there was a large shiny gold one for me. I sat by the tree and prayed every night for it while also apologizing to God for begging for this when other kids got nothing. There is a picture of me tearing it open with a huge smile on my face. I think what made me happiest wasn't the gift itself but the gold wrapping paper, different than the others, for just a second I was special and wanted. There is a Japanese practice called Kintsugi where when a bowl breaks the cracks are filled with gold, with the belief that the repair isn't hidden and makes it more beautiful. There is no gold coming and I feel broken beyond repair. Some things aren't repairable and no one actually wants a patched together old bowl.

The feelings of last December are looming large and I can't shove them down. Winter solstice is 66 days away and the thought of it is making me nauseous. There is nothing to look forward to and so much dread. I'm not sure how much effort I have left in me.