I guess as I have grown, Christmas has become more of a burden than a reward for the end of the year. The biting anticipation that hummed through my veins weeks and weeks in advance has dulled to an anxiety over what to get my family and friends. As a child I really didn't care for the presents or the food but what I really wanted was for my mom and family to relax. Holidays always seemed to set my mom off more than usual. She always seemed more melancholy and lashed out more often. I always loved having us together in the morning and waking up my brother and sister with my childish glee. What made me most excited was that on Christmas day, our family actually looked like the one on t.v. We had smiles (although generated by a cruel consumerist economy) and laughter. It was the time of the year that I didn't really mind being the butt of the joke because it made everyone smile, including my mom. Fixing had become the objective of my life, especially in regards to my mother. Now, shes gone. Who do I fix? Myself... that I would rather not do. That can be put off until later right? No. Unfortunately, it is I who needs the most fixing and I have no idea where to start. Its hard realizing that I have no idea who I am or who I want to be. I feel like a mosaic that wasn't pieced together correctly and now all the pieces are separating from themselves to the four winds. I am so many different things. I have many different faces and opinions that collide with each other. Where do I get the strength to go from day to day, week to week, year to year, "finding myself". I have hopes for the new year in regards to myself. No promises to myself, those are too easily broken, especially in the face of pleasing others around me. No, I have hopes. That is a good sign, especially in this odd place that I am in, my own skin.
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