According-To-Me.com

I'm dying inside...

I should be getting ready for bed (hell, I should have been sleeping hours ago), but something stops me. I look at my little Charlie Brown tree with a deep longing... longing to be free of the terrible sadness that envelopes me. The one thing I have realized during all of this is that I cannot accept myself, with all of my weaknesses and flaws. Therefore it becomes my routine of withdrawing, of pushing away anyone who might provide a little bit of support and understanding. I don't want it - I don't deserve it. I, much like my tree, am flawed - and people see that and reject me, just as no one else wanted my tree...

I am just sad. Christmas, and its true meaning, swirls around me and leaves. I don't understand why this time, of all times, I feel as if I am weighed down by sorrow. Funny, but I really think that when Jesus comes, I will be forgotten about.

As I sit here, listning to a couple of my favorite Christmas songs, I am crying - crying the wistfulness of some terrible tragedy. Perhaps I am the tragedy, the one who ended up pitiful and unworthy. I hear the praise and gladness in the songs that enter my soul; yet the sorrow simply becomes more and more knife-like. Odd that something like the "Hallelujah Chorus" would stir up some long ago forgotten pain that, like me, begs to be noticed and wants so to be comforted. "Silent Night" has become for me a bed of sorrow and I can no longer think about Christmas without crying my pain to the surface, hoping to hell like somehow, somewhere, I will be able to find support.

And now that the clock has long since passed two in the morning, I will dry my tears, finish my soda, and wander off to bed - lost, as if I am so far removed from everything that I just can't find my way back. Maybe I'm not meant to.