Decembers are always hard for me.
All the carols I sing, all the decorating I do, all the sweaters I wear are just me trying to make this December different.
It is so cold and dark and exhausting. My mind can't perceive any of the joy surrounding me. I put on a mask of happiness without even trying. But when I'm alone, whether physically or mentally, when I allow myself to feel, it just feels like an empty December.
Maybe it is because it is my birthday next month, so this is the time to reflect and I've never been good with reflections. I see mostly flaws when I bother to look. Im my palest, my largest, my driest in December
Maybe it is because I hate endings. Just another thing that leaves. People always say the end of something is the beginning of something else but sometimes it is just the end. Things are different and they can't go back and December is when it aches the most.
Maybe it is because it reminds of how trapped I always felt. Powerless. Guilty. Broken. I can't be good enough. I've never been a good enough daughter, I can never be who she wants me to be and I couldnt be enough for him to stay. More than ever, I know I wasnt a good enough sister. I should have done more, or done anything. He deserved better than all of us. He should have had another December.
Like the worst version of myself is the only person I can be in December. Unless this is just who I am and I am only really aware of it in December.
I don't want to die. I feel like that needs to be said. This is not the heart and mind of someone who wishes they were dead. Just one that just needs to get through December