Trying not to be sad is exhausting

I am trying hard not to be sad. I am trying hard to see the positive. In fact I remind myself all the time of everything I am thankful for and blessed to have.

But I am still sad. I actually feel proud because I get out of bed everyday. Some days I would rather not but I do it anyways.

But I am starting to get angry. I can feel it bubbling up inside me. Every time I can’t pull that smile together or I do and it’s so disgustingly fake it makes me want to puke, I get more upset.

I want to be happy, I want to enjoy Christmas again and I want to make sure Mackenzie has the best Christmas season too. But as much as I want it, and yes I know the saying if you want something bad enough you can make it happen, but I am failing. I guess maybe I don’t want it as much as I think. I am happy to be sad yet I feel the pressure to pretend. And when I can’t hold back the tears, I get angry. This dark cloak gets draped over me and it’s too heavy to just shrug off.

There are days I just want to curl up in a ball underneath its weight and sleep there. Maybe if I don’t move, the cloak will go away. The darkness will lift.

But that would be absurd. It’s Christmas season and it’s the second without Xavier so I should be better. It should be easier with the first one out of the way. Nope. Somehow I survived last year. At the time I thought it was real but now that more time has passed, it feels even more real. It was still new last year and with anything new there is an energy of expectations. How was I going to feel? Was it going to be as bad as I thought? How were other people going to react?

Now that that’s all out of the way, I have no sense of wonder. I know how much it will hurt leading up to Christmas Day. The celebrations will be a good distraction and there will be the awkward moments of what to say to remember Xavier without putting a damper on the festive spirit. Then the days after will be miserable. The reality of yet another year without my son. Just thinking about celebrating this holiday of togetherness year after year without my boy makes me sick to my stomach. It’s real. This pain is the new normal.

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The Book of Me

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