A Reminisce of Christmas Past

Some days it feels like I'm wasting my life away while laying beneath powder blue skies. I think about the things I used to hold so dear that have now become faded photographs and writings on the wall. I lay there silence, listsening to my breathing. I feel so connected to everything around me. Every fibre of my being feels alive; vibrating with energy. It almost feels like my cells are about to burst, giving birth to a brilliant white light. I need to sleep. I've barely slept all week. Once again I find myself caught up in waves of anxiety, yet willing to be almost completely passive...of course, when I'm in that state, I'm usually high. Everything fades to the background. It's as if the worries and cares don't exist. You have to be careful when you're realing with severe interrupted. Though today is a peaceful day. I feel like I'm in a rowboat out on the ocean. It feels like I'm being nestled in the gentle waves of the Atlantic. I finally feel comfortable enough to sleep. My stomach isn't bubbling with acid, my chest isn't sore and my head isn't throbbing. I feel disconnected from my body almost. Not like astroprojestction, more like a jello feeling I guess. It feels so good to be numb. I float back through my memories. I settle on small happy times. I don't choose the memory conciously, I just let whatever float through my head, letting the warmth spread through my body. I wrap myself in the soft over-stuffed duvet while I flip through a catalogue of memories. It feels as if I'm being submerged into thw warmth of the memory; I'm either 9 or 10 years old on Christmas Eve. The old wood stove we have has a roaring fire inside. The Christmas tree is in the corner of the living room. It's adorned with tinsel, glass and plastic balls of every colour. Small gingerbread cookies of all shapes hang off the treat. The Christmas star gleams brightly atop the tree. The sense that I am a part of a bigger thing overcomes me. The house is silent. The festivities for the evening have long since ended, everyone has retreated to their beds with full stomachs and that one special new toy. I lay on the hardwood floor of the livingroom in front of the stove, the day playing over in my mind. We watched The Powerpuff Girls as we scarfed down the cookies that had been made earlier that day. Nan knew how to make a mean Christmas cookie. Bits and pieces of wrapping paper are scattered all over the floor, packaging of toys is piled up next to the bin and there are a few pieces of clothes draped over the furniture. I feel loved. I feel safe I want to hold the memory inside forever. I have my stuffed monester with me as I build castles of legos and other buildings. I create my own city. In this land I am the lord and these miniatures are my pesants. I am the stars, the moon and the sun in the sky. I have the control that I subconciously crave. For a day the chaos that rules my daily life subsides. Anger fades and tensions lengthen. There must be magic in the air. In the blink of an eye the memory is ripped away from me. Reatily swims before my eyes. I'm in my 30s. I'm scared, addicted and strapped to a rollarcoster against my will. It's strange; in all of my memories, I never see my face. Never. Sometimes when I think back and picture myself, it's different from how I look. I have no tattoos, I'm blank. I'm empty. Is this a reflection of how I feel inside and I'm trying to make myself realise it? Am I trying to explore the root cause of my loneliness, short-comings and failures? Or is it my desire to start over? Make better choices? Or relive the moments of my life that stole the breath from me? It's probably a combination of the two. Maybe that's why I have such a hard time with the holidays. I have a hard time dealing with the loss of that security, the anxiety that plagues me raises. I'm bitter that these memories didn't last; sometimes it feels like a glimpse into something I will never have. A bittersweet torture of the mind.