The end for now.

It’s the end of the year and what begins in the autumn for me is hitting its crescendo. My birthday is in the fall and I really begin wrapping myself in this reflective meditation. It’s more like sinking, really. Something you must fight to escape. But I don’t struggle against this instinct anymore. I save my strength to survive this obsessive ritual with the passage of time. It’s better to weather through and become wiser. Or at least I can try and hope for me to finally get my life together this year. I know I’m not alone.

I’m not the only one that sees the end of the year approaching and shivers. What have I done? When will I get better? I’m too young to be feeling this weight. But here things are as they are. I try to regrow, I try to take care of myself and have balance. This time of the year is unavoidably a spiral of madness. It’s not always so maudlin. Sometimes growth is just awkward. But sometimes it hurts.

I always pull inward and away. When things reach their peak at this time of the year I finally feel this craving for human contact. But everyone is going through this other thing together that feels so strange to me. The holidays stick out like a sore thumb in time. They’re all specifically about family. They’re about intimate, foreign traditions. At least as someone who never fit in with family they feel foreign to me. And they bring up pretty sorry memories. I have little positive to share when it comes to family experience.

It’s like a clusterfuck of bad timing. I’m feeling my most vulnerable and drained during a time of year where you’re supposed to think about personal sacrifice and cultural performance. If you never had a family how can you hope to have a culture. It’s a time of year when the message to open your heart is played over and over, but we don’t live in a culture where we open our hearts to each other. We put on this performance, we take what joy and cheer we’re aloud, but it only goes so far. I don’t think I’m jaded; just think it would be so much better if I felt like I was apart of this togetherness.

And it could be depression talking, but it seems like the most cliche thing in the world to feel so alone during this time of year. I know I’m not the only one. But I also know it’s different for other people. Some come together during this time of year and reconnect with family.  With friends. They open their hearts and homes to people. They compromise the tradition for compassion. They realize there’s more going on than presentation and tinsel and a get together at granny’s for dinner. I’ve been the outsider to so many family holidays. This is the time when I feel most out of place.

Life is a live performance. I just can’t be this version of me anymore. It’s time to move on. It’s time to pay attention to what’s important. I’m loved. The fact of the matter is I’m surrounded, or haunted, by people who limit me, who limit what I can be, who have no idea how to respect me. I love some of these people, but it’s time for me to move on to relationships that let me be me.

I feel like I can’t live another single year being someone I never was just to keep an illusion, a pretense, in tact.

My final resolution in this place is to start over once more. New home, new habits, new family, new blog. This has been therapeutic and messy, but life is what it is when it is. We grow up and move on and there’s really nothing we can do to help it. We just try to clean up messes as we go and keep moving after we fall.

So this is the end for now.