I have *distemper. I am disturbed and depressed. My humors are most definitely not balanced.

If I can write about it, there must be an upswing in the works. Plus, it’s a good sign that I haven’t sat unblinking in front of the wall today.

Utterly, crushingly sad for no reason at all, I stare and see nothing. Wander in and out of stores, finding little, buying nothing. I’m here… yet not. It’s no way to live. And now is not the time. I don’t want to do this at Christmas.

I tend to curse more when depressed. The social filters fall away, giving me yet another reason to avoid people lest social situations turn into bloody mine fields. Things turned ugly today after the 10th person told me ‘Happy Holidays’. I finally demanded ‘What holiday?’ ‘Which holiday?’ like a newly released mental patient.
But the phrase is now so ingrained in the well meaning that their feelings are hurt if you question it. Let’s be all-inclusive. We’ll leave no one out, so there will be no hurt feelings, ever again. [She snarled] ‘Holidays’ cover Christmas, Hanukkah, Ramadan, Kwanzaa and of course, Festivus.

There’s one more gift to wrap, but it’s painful to admit that I become angry and resentful over something that should be a happy tradition.
Truthfully, my brain feels as if it’s rotted out and all that remains is the empty skull full of mush that used to be me.

Anger probably started this. And fear. Worry… well, that’s fear applied personally. What’s funny is that I can never anticipate the slide in, but can usually recognize the fight to come back out.

My SIL is preaching the curative powers of a Christmas tree, though the house remains, as ever, a sterile environment – if you don’t count the dog hair. It’s 86 degrees. As if that means something. YsD and her boyfriend will come here and find nothing and though shameful, it fails to move my empty skull… or equally empty heart.

I thought if I ignored it Christmas would go away. And for me, it sort of did.
Not the desired effect, but you can’t always get what you want. Sometimes, according to Mick, you just get what you need.

This is sickeningly self indulgent and really too much information to share… but I have to write. Besides… soon, there will be joy again. I can’t wait. That would be the best Christmas gift.

*The origin of the word distemper is from the Middle English distemperen, meaning to upset the balance of the humors, which is from the Old French destemprer, meaning to disturb, which is from the Vulgar Latin distemperare: Latin dis- and Latin temperare, meaning to not mix properly.