One Tiny Christmas Tree Light.

The indescribable elation of a couple of nights ago has been replaced with a tiny, angry, sad raisin of defeat.

I had reached the end of my rope today, not through anything huge and dramatic, but simply due to a series of otherwise negligible annoyances combined with a poorly timed change of mood.  This is not so unusual for me, but it is less usual than general cheerfulness, so it was worth remarking upon.  I was talking to my younger brother about it and he had this to say:

“It’s our job to brighten the world.  Each generation has men and women who make the world brighter, be they artists and thinkers, scientists and engineers, or simply nice people who bear up the burden.  We are opposed by people who darken the world, and we have to be here to  fight them… not literally, but to have our efforts counteract theirs.  You may not notice an extra christmas light, but it’s there and it’s important.”

The worst thing about this is that I know he’s right.  I know because he’s paraphrasing (unintentionally, of course, we just tend to think along the same lines with him being the more stable sort than I) things that I have said in the past.  I have to say that it’s difficult to imagine a weird little nugget of human gristle such as myself brightening the world on a good day… on a night like tonight, I feel empty and quickened but with a body weighed down; corpse-like.  The sensation is not physical pain, but it inspires a similar reaction, producing an energy with no outlet that makes me want to squirm.

So what do you do, a flickering little christmas light with a job to do and lacking in the ability to do so?  The darkening of the world doesn’t slow while I sit here on my sofa listening to gentle music and trying to remember to breathe.  How to squeeze some humanity out of a day that leaves one feeling as though every face turned to you is hostile, wearing a grotesque smile that threatens more than it soothes; a day when every door seems locked and every window empty?

I hate even writing about this kind of thing, because it’s so boring and self-indulgent, but since I can’t drink (due to a recent brain injury) this seems like the only way to ease off the tension.

This is the shitty part of being me.  Usually it’s puppies and rainbows, but sometimes it’s difficult.

You see, I have a whole bunch of work to do, and as that same brother has often chided me, I lack the intellectual discipline that might be useful in setting aside paralytic… well, let’s call it what it is, shall we… temper tantrums for long enough to return to some kind of productivity.  But no, no… not for Allison.  She’s gifted!  She’s a free spirit!

So when the world darkens, and you’re powerless to push back against that rising tide, what do you do?

Oh, I am a selfish child.  A selfish child with a little hateful raisin in my chest.

 

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Author: adrennan

An artist and writer in Bellingham, Washington.

One thought on “One Tiny Christmas Tree Light.”

  1. Life is a balance, Allie. If you are too giving, you risk losing yourself. If you don’t give at all, you lose that warm feeling of generosity. However, life is also rarely even. Sometimes we’re on one end of the scale, sometimes the other. I think it’s perfectly healthy to write about these feelings.. the other option is to take it out on others (not practical) or to keep it bound up inside (eventually actively problematic.) So, feel free to write about your problems, and feel free to find the answers within. Usually, once you get past the problem, that’s where you find your flow.
    ::hugs::

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