26 December 2006

Holidays, PMS and Depression... 'Tis the frickin' season...

Gotta love the holidays. Rushing around, family dynamics, pleasant folks at all the stores, sometimes inclement weather, cash crunches. All combined can make a person feel a little crazy during the season.

Depression may set in. Lethargy, non-committal attitudes, lack of will power added to the above may have you questioning what exactly it is you're doing with your life and why you even bother. It's statistically proven, this is the time of year that depression is highest along with suicide and homicide rates.

Hey, throw in a little PMS for the ladies on top of all that, and you've got a home-grown recipe for some serious Griswalds meets Freddie hilarity.

This is how all my phases came together this season. Job change, cash crunch, car wreck, Holidays, PMS. Welcome, Depression. With the exception of 1 person, there were no friends or family that I really wanted to talk to this year. They are used to this. They call anyway. They already know the drill. Talk about light stuff, skirt around the rest, just make sure I'm ok before they hang up the phone. This is usually a ten-minute ending to the call to reassure them.

Yes, Jim (brother), I'm holding it together. (Translation: My head is going to explode and I don't know if I'll be able to put all the pieces back together again this time but you know me; I'll figure it out.)

Yes Mom, I'm ok, really. (Translation: I have finally overcome the urge to walk in front of a train or slit my wrists with a rusty razor. Joking, mom. You know my sense of humor gets a little dark this time of year. I've stood on the edge of sanity before, have felt my mind slip, I'm not there this time.)

Yes kids, everything is going to be fine. (Translation: I don't know how we're going to make it through the next month, but somehow we always do. Mom's got it covered. Have fun, be a kid. If you hear a strange keening from my bedroom, just leave the house for awhile and don't bring it up when you return.)

Yes (name any of the 18 people at the office who ask how my holiday was) so-and-so, my holiday was fabulous, how was yours? (Translation: You are in no way, shape or form privy to anything that resembles personal information about my home life because we both know that we really don't care for each other, so I'm going to change the subject because it would be totally unprofessional for you to see me sobbing uncontrollably in the office for no apparent reason when I don't even let my children or the person with whom I share everything see me this way.)

And here we are. The day after Christmas. The ruckus has died. Everyone is back to their pre-holiday disposition. And yet, some of us fight desperately just to keep it together in public. And private. And we push away the ones we love. And we wish with little hope that the ones we need to understand the most won't walk away like the others have before. But we know they will, they always do. And somehow we'll make it through and pick ourselves up.

And someday it won't be even just a little white lie... we really will have overcome the urge to walk in front of a train or slit our wrists with rusty razors...

No comments: