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Where Are You, Christmas?

“Where is the laughter you used to bring me? Why can’t I hear music play?”

I remember when Christmas brought lights and wonderful smells throughout the season. It started with Thanksgiving, when we’d put up the tree after our Thanksgiving feast. Christmas music would fill the house as we put ornaments on the branches and played Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer movies in the background. Presents slowly began to appear under the tree as the big day approached. Santa was real…and he was always watching. Letters had been sent, wishlists made. Excitement grew with every passing day. Christmas was coming!

Then Christmas Eve came…and we put up the stockings. My dad would read “The Night Before Christmas” and my sister and I would beg to open one present that night. We made sure to put out specially decorated cookies and Coke (because we wanted to be different. Santa needs the caffeine after all) and wrote a note for Santa on the plate. Going to sleep was impossible. Santa was coming! Could I get a glimpse? Could I hear him? Oh! But if I didn’t go to sleep, he might not come! Then 4 or 5 am came and I would wake up so full of energy! Christmas is here! It’s Christmas day! My dad would make homemade pecan rolls and pecan struedel for breakfast, while my sister and I played with the unwrapped toys left under the tree from Santa.

It was so magical and filled with happiness! And when I became a father, I strived to bring that magic to my kids. I live to see their faces light up as they see the presents under the tree. I would wake up earlier than they (still around 4 or 5am) because I was just as excited as they were. Seeing their smiles is the only gift I want or need for Christmas.

So…where did it go?

“My world is changing, I’m rearranging. Does that mean Christmas changes too?”

Maybe it’s the world around me that has just become so dark that I can’t see the Christmas lights anymore. Perhaps I’ve lost faith, and that’s why I can’t hear the sleigh bells. Everything has become so covered in greed that wrapping paper isn’t needed anymore. Why did Christmas disappear? Where is the magic that I knew as a kid? Even now, my tears push past my eyes as I reflect on the season and mourn what I used to know.

This is the second year in a row I am unable to get gifts for my family. Last year, my mental health dropped to a point where I almost took my life before Thanksgiving, and I was forced to take time away from work to fix myself. I had no money to do anything special. We put up a tree, but it was meaningless to me. The house was full of family and friends, but it felt so empty. Others gave gifts to us…but nothing under that tree was from me. Now we’ve come to the end of this year, and I’m right back where I was. I just started a new job after being jobless for months. I’m suffering from a broken family (not my immediate one), as well as a shattered faith in God. I still can’t get presents for my family. My wife says that they don’t need presents, and that just being with me is enough. But that’s not enough for me. I want to give them the world. I want to bring that magic to them and see their shining eyes and huge smiles again.

And I can’t.

“I’m not the same one, see what the time’s done. Is that why you have let me go?”

Am I the reason Christmas seems to have disappeared? I so desperately want Christmas back, the way it used to be. I want to be able to see the lights again. I want to hear the bells and the music playing. I want to taste the peppermint and smell the pecan rolls. I want to feel joy in the true reason for the season. I want to be giddy at 4am again.

Come back to me, Christmas. I don’t even want presents for myself. I just want to feel the magic and be able to fill others with it. That’s all I want. I need some Christmas in my life. Please…come back.

I need you.

Sincerely,

A weary warrior

Merry Christmas

Doubt

“Uncertainty always creates doubt, and doubt creates fear.” – Oscar Munoz

[Trigger Warning: This entry touches on the topic of suicide.]

If someone were to look at my life, they might question why I suddenly have so much doubt now. I have seen my fair share of hell, and then some. Through it all, I’ve seen the power that the Christian God has. He has worked many miracles in my life and I was happy to follow Him and serve Him. I was his faithful warrior. He was always there for me when I needed Him.

Until He wasn’t.

How is one to continue when the foundation on which one stands suddenly disappears? When all falls silent and there is no longer any answer or comfort, how is one to keep fighting? When the light suddenly goes dark and never returns, how is one supposed to keep the faith? God went dark on me. Abandoned me when I needed Him most. My wife was very sick and I was struggling to keep my family afloat. I was forced to watch my wife suffer day after day, hour after hour, minute by minute for over two years. No matter how often or how loudly I pleaded, there was no answer. No sign of a plan. No comfort in the darkness. I was truly alone, and I was forced to press on alone.

My trust in God has shattered into a fine dust. My trust in anything divine has been completely destroyed. I even tried reaching out to other gods and goddesses, hoping someone – anyone – would listen to me, would give me the strength to keep going, or even just a mote of comfort. I received nothing.

A year ago this week, I very nearly tried to end my life. Sitting in my closet at work, I questioned if anyone would even care if I still existed. I couldn’t keep going, not without support. I had exhausted all options, and things were just getting worse. I wanted the pain to end. I thought about going to a higher floor where I knew there was easy access to a balcony. I was moments away from going up there to take an “extended lunch”…and was stopped by a phone call from my wife. She could tell something was wrong and she was able to talk me down.

I knew, then, that I needed help. That I was beyond my own capabilities now. Ultimately, I did get help. I took time off work, went to daily therapy, and spent weeks trying to pull my broken pieces back together. To this day, I still struggle to keep the pieces together. I find it difficult to sleep. I cannot bear silence. I try to maintain a strong appearance for my family, but it’s just a facade. The truth is, I am still utterly destroyed inside, and healing is going to take a long time.

Now, God is trying to talk to me again. But now I don’t know if I want to hear Him. The faithful warrior in me wants to run back to Him and give Him full control again. But the wounded side of me resists. How can I go back to the one who abandoned me and put me in this situation in the first place? How can I trust Him anymore? Deep down, I know He must have always been there. Perhaps one day I will look back and say “Oh, that’s what you were doing. I understand now.” But today is not that day.  I doubt Him now, and I can’t help but be afraid of what either decision – to trust or not to trust – means for me.

If I have learned anything from my battles, it is that I have a personal strength and fortitude like no other. I know I can be strong when called for. I know I can continue the fight. I know I can do it alone. It just gets harder and harder with each battle.

I am a weary warrior. Weary from fighting the darkness alone. Weary from enduring the pain and suffering. Weary and broken from Life’s constant beatings, a fruitless search for meaning, endless struggle and doubt. I am so weary from it all, and I need a rest.

I know you are too. Should you ever need a sanctuary, you can come here. I can offer nothing but a quiet space and a listening ear. Here you are safe. Here you are heard. Our stories are not over, and that means there are still many battles ahead. But we are warriors, we will continue to fight, and we will help each other through.

You are strong.

You are loved.

You are seen.

You are not alone.

My Worst Enemy

“It’s hard to fight an enemy who has an outpost in your head.” – Sally Kempton

Imagine with me, if you will: You’re at work. You are minding your own business, typing away at your keyboard, finalizing those reports or finishing up that project. It’s actually been a productive day, and you’ve accomplished a lot. It’s something to be proud of! Perhaps you’ll be put in the running for that promotion, or any form of recognition. Suddenly, you hear a small, dark voice purring in your ear: “You don’t deserve that.” What?   Who said that? You turn, but no one is there. You try to focus on your work. “You’re not good enough.” Excuse me? Still no one. You look at your screen and now the words are blurred, you can’t focus. All you can see are the words forming in your head from that tiny little voice, except it’s getting louder with every passing thought. You’re frozen, paralyzed by the venom of that little voice. You shake your head to clear it away…but it’s too late. You’re spiraling.

How many times has that happened to you? For me, it’s happened countless times. It’s a daily occurrence. Sometimes multiple times a day. I try to push forward, but that voice follows me around everywhere. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying.

Sometimes the voice is that of my parents. Sometimes it’s of my coworkers or my boss. Other times it’s my wife and kids. The worst and most common, however, is when it’s my own voice.

“You’re not good enough.”
“You don’t deserve this,” or even “You DO deserve this.”
“They’re all better off without you.”
“You make no difference.”
“No one will care if you disappear.”

These are all things that my little voice likes to taunt me with. Dark whispers in the shadowy corners of my turmoiled brain. I push forward. I put on a brave face for everyone around me. But beneath the facade, I’m in anguish. I am trapped in my own personal hell that only I can see and hear. It’s hard to fight. Hell, it’s damn near impossible at times. Even with my loved ones assuring me that the voices are lying to me, more cracks are revealed and exploited. I can’t stop myself from spiraling.

So how does one fight against an enemy like that? An adversary of one’s own creation, made to mimic the darkest parts of the soul. How can you combat it, or even better yet, defeat it once and for all?

The answer?  I don’t know.

Some use religion. I used to be one of those people. I relied heavily on God and his church to keep me uplifted. I would drown out the voices with praise and worship and prayer. Unfortunately, I have spiraled to a point where even that doesn’t help. I am unsure of my standing with God…and sometimes my voice even takes on His visage when it torments me. But for others, religion or God is a powerful weapon against the darkness.

Other options might include therapy, visiting with friends, exercising, trying a new hobby, cleaning the house. All of these can help keep the voices at bay. But ultimately, these are all only temporary fixes. Because the voices always find another corner to invade. I have created my own personal villain. An enemy with such cunning and strength, and it hides away in my mind and soul where no one can reach it.

I don’t know how to defeat it. All I know is I must keep fighting it…because no one else can.

“So what now, Jack Sparrow? Are we to be two immortals locked in an epic battle until Judgment Day and trumpets sound?” – Captain Barbosa, Pirates of the Caribbean

I encourage you, my weary warriors, don’t give up. We fight the monsters so others don’t have to. I know the battle is long and grueling and exhausting. But we must keep them at bay. The voices lie to us constantly…but that’s all they are: lies. The shadows see your strength, and they fear you for it. They will do anything, say anything, to weaken you.

Don’t let them.

You are worthy.

You are loved.

You are seen.

You are not alone.