What does it mean, that I’m still surprised to move from mania to depression in the course of one week? After all this time, how does it still catch me off guard?
Things have changed drastically. I am lethargic and having trouble staying awake, I actually feel sad (which is unusual for me, I tend to skip either straight to despair or numbness), and after seeing this photo I literally sat down and cried.
Even though the tears I cried were those of hope (hope for the possibility of our nation upholding the ideal of civil rights), I’m not one for crying normally. So that’s definitely a sign of the change in tides.
I really struggled yesterday, so it was probably a bad day to spend the afternoon baking. Baking just reminds me of my family at Christmas, making cookies and candies of various kinds, and the home that I don’t have anymore.
We’ll be heading up to Whidbey Island this weekend (where I grew up) and most of the folks I went to school with are coming “home” for the holidays –home, in this situation, tending to be their childhood homes where one or both parents still live.
My family doesn’t own my childhood home anymore, so that really complicates things. It not only complicates things logistically with where we should have festivities and whatnot, but also because that house and property were like an unspoken family member to me. There were many times when my parents were unavailable to me, for whatever reason, so the house was the only stable thing I could really count on.
I could count on a complete lack of water pressure, occasional power outages, and immortal goldfish in the pond, but that’s just what made it extra-special.
It was the only place in the world I felt safe, and after one or two short periods of homelessness since then that feeling has not been one that I have been able to build again easily.
So basically it’s like a bad breakup. The worst, since we had a relationship that spanned the length of my life when it was severed, and every time I go to the island I know it is there. Hanging out with its new family, celebrating Christmas, and it wont even give me the time of day.
You could say, then, that my family really stresses me out. If, when saying family, you included that house in the meaning. The estranged older brother who has severed all ties with the rest of the family to run away to Russia and convert to Russian Orthodox Catholicism. Honestly I tried to avoid thinking about it all day yesterday because I have a tendency to get a little hysterical.
It’s hard not to let the house ruin the entire Island for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Island! It is just hard to visit all of my favorite places without thinking about the house.
Jeeze, sorry for being such a bummer. I’m sure Christmas will be excellent, I am quite excited to see my grandparents and the house my dad just built. Perhaps I can learn to love it? It wont be the same, but I’ll give the million dollar view a shot.