Holiday Cheer

I don't got any.  Holiday cheer, that is.  I wasn't expecting it to be this hard this year, but it really is.  Some days I'm just going through the motions.  Spending time with friends (that I love dearly and who are making this year bearable), making cookies, decorating the tree (and even remembering to turn the lights on sometimes) and braving the malls and shops to get that last gift or 6 knocked off my list.  But it feels hollow.  There is so much missing.  Christmas hasn't really been the same since my Mom died, and that is almost 18 years ago now.  Ever since then, it was a shadow of a holiday gone by (which may be why I like Charles Dickens' Christmas Carol so much).  After she died, the rest of us may have been in the same house most years, but that is it.  There was usually more TV than conversation or real enjoyment of the company we were in.  

I know I am not alone in feeling blah at this time of year.  On a pretty much daily basis I read the mental health columnists and bloggers that I follow and they are all saying the same basic thing right now:  when you suffer from depression, the holidays can be extremely difficult.  Part of me wants to bury myself in blankets and not come out until every last Santa and jingle is put away for the year.  But I know I have to find new ways to make the holidays fun for myself.  And by myself.  This will be the second year in a row that I will wake up to nobody on Christmas morning, and that sucks. It sucks huge.  I need to remember, though, that it is what you make of it.  If I choose to wallow, then I am going to have a crappy Christmas.  This year I choose to make the best of it.  I will be celebrating with an" interesting" bunch of people (some of whom I get along with better than others), but it will include my 8 month old pnefew, who always makes Crazy Aunt Leslie smile.