As I reflect on what made those two Christmases different, I note that they were after I came out to myself. After finally accepting me, some of the cloud lifted. But I didn't see new clouds ahead. Now they're here.
Christmas has always been a time when I could never please anybody enough... It was never, ever enough. Are you getting depressed right now? Well, you should be. Because if you aren’t then I’ll have to be depressed all by myself, and , , , ,
Enough. This year has already started out differently. It is going to be a good year. I figure that nobody may like my decorating ideas, but I don’t give a shit. I am going to take some initiative and get some decorating done today!I figure I can let some gayness out. I know it’s good for this type of thing. I’m going to let it rip.
If only with myself (and you, my extended, electronic “family,”), coming out has given me a sense of peace about some things. I’m still f---ing scared as sh-- (I always cuss when I get anxious), but I’m going to let some of that queer eye come out, some of the gayness that leads me to love decorating things and celebrating.
And from the next year:
as much as I might. Yes, there is fear there. There will be a lot of unknowns. But there is hope.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Holy Week at Christmas
Even though it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, I'm feeling more like Holy Week. This is
my last Christmas with my family. . . . . .
I am mourning the loss of my family and things the way they "have been." And yet, I do not fear the future
It is like living through Holy Week: the week before Easter Day. The week that leads up to Good Friday and being placed in the tomb. People think that Holy Week ends with Easter and resurrection. Actually, Holy Week simply ends with death and the tomb.
Yes, we "know" Easter will come. We believe that resurrection will happen. But first we must make last journeys, east last meals, and then die.Life as I have known it, the closet as I have furnished it is dying. While there is rejoicing in leaving the closet, there is fear of the unknown to come, and sadness of leaving the Known behind.
Mixed feelings. Sadness and Hope. Endings that await a new beginning.
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Bethlehem to be born
Wm. Butler Yeats