Faking it.

It’s that time of year again.
When you are you are expected to be happy and excited, and expectant, and all aligned and hopeful.

But what if you are not?

What if you can’t actually bear this time of year and it’s preliminary weeks!
Because in all of its supposed fluffy whiteness, for you, it projects all of the opposites to what those who expect experience.
What if you wish that you could just sleep, December to February.

What if you are indifferent to when the clock strikes 12, because despite being able to see what little change there has been, and despite knowing that any change no matter how small is positive, you can also see how much has not changed, how much energy has been depleted, and you are aware that your will power is now practically non existent.

What if with each chime you become a little more paralysed with the realisation that you are now going to have to endure a further 12 months of doing and dealing with this shit again.
Alone.
Always alone. So that alone feels normal. Meant. Most comfortable to you even.

What if despite prayers, and universal requests for assistance and intervention, and attempted and achieved changes, and visible growth and extended backbones and continued service, and good thoughts and deeds, and simply being……. What if, despite all of these things, you still feel as though you are being beaten down, constantly tested, and weak now, and as though each year it just gets that little bit harder to cope with and a little less worth bothering, or being you……? Because things from where you stand or sit, just get a little bit more shit?

What if just like everyone else at this time of year, you sit and assess, but what you see and what you truly feel about it swells your heart with distress. And because you are you, you can only be honest.

What if as the song goes ” you just feel like throwing your hands up in the air….”?
Because the old tendencies, and thoughts and feelings and bad habits are creep creeping!
Tapping you, reminding you that you will most likely never be truly free!
So you run, and run- unwillingly/from yourself maybe/from having to deal with you and what being you sometimes/often means?

What if you are so tired, and fed up and over it, that you honestly, and only days in, think that this may be the year that you don’t make it.
Because you are so tired and fed up and over it,
that this may be the year that you stop trying, and you stop fighting, and you stop fake smiling and you just simply give in!

What if you were to feel,and assess, and write out all of these things?

At this time of the year.

Would you be a bad person for speaking on how “you” feel?
As opposed to fake fake faking it……until you make whatever it is?

Would all of what you express be real even, or could it just be over thinking, on account of being overly stressed out with the constancy of things, and challenges, and uninvited squirrels and, now flies that scare the swear words out of you, and non existent hugs, and non existent kisses, and non existent touches, and far too little sleep!

What if you just had to regurgitate it. Get it out of you, and onto paper or any solid tangible thing, because you could no longer hold it in.

Maybe you would wish for a reprieve.
With a caveat that if this is it, if this is your lot, if it is not going to get any better than this, that whatever is left, doesn’t feel any worse or more shit than this.

© KLove 2014

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