A Red Ryder Carbine Action Two Hundred Shot Range Model Air Rifle

So we’re coming to the time of year when people start of conversations by saying “what do you want for Christmas?” For the first time in my life, I can honestly say there is no burning desire in me to get something material. Obviously, I want a saddle, and a new pair of boots, and a pair of sneakers, and a space ship. And I could name a list of about a billion other things. But getting those things wouldn’t make my Christmas. What I really want is to be happy and excited for Christmas this year.

Last year, nothing felt right to me. Instead of feeling excitement and anticipation, all I felt was depression and apathy. I’m usually the first one awake on Christmas morning. I wake up early and wait impatiently for everyone else. This past year Mom came in my room and told me that we weren’t going to have time for breakfast if I didn’t get up. So I got up, and I went through the motions. I ate good food. I talked to my family. I opened presents. But I didn’t taste the food. I don’t know what we talked about. And every present was just another thing to do before I could go back to sleep.

The part that upset me was that I love Christmas. I love hiking through a field in the biting cold to pick out our tree. I love the citrusy pine aroma that pervades the house once it’s up. I love how the cats rub and chew on the lower branches of their new living room fixture. I love getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and finding my way with the light from the tree. I love watching Christmas movies with my family. “It’s a Wonderful Life” “White Christmas” “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” “The Grinch” “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” and most importantly “A Christmas Story.” I love Christmas Eve. I love singing and lighting candles (my inner pyro’s favorite part) at church. I love staying up until midnight wrapping gifts. I love opening presents in my pajamas. I love scraping the grits off my plate secretively because I don’t want Mom and Dad to know I didn’t eat them. I love the torturous smell of dinner rolls baking. I love Rotweiler slobber. I love roast beef, roasted potatoes, dinner rolls, shrimp, crackers, hot chocolate, and peppermint ice cream pie. I love when Grandmom finds more presents long after we’ve finished opening them (the Never-Ending Christmas).

Hopefully I can hang on to his feeling. I love Christmas and the lead up to it. It’s a wonderful way to end the year. Especially this year. I’ve felt so horrible all of this year, I’m filled with a lot of hope for next year. I really feel like I’ve clawed my way back on track. I’m excited and prepared for the challenges ahead of me. I welcome the problems of the New Year. But for now, I just need to put on some Christmas songs and bake some cookies. I only hope that when my parents drive around to look at the Christmas lights they wish that I were with them.

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How’s This for Crazy?

I feel like I’m a box of cats.

Go with me on this.

I’m a cardboard box. The cats are my emotions. Now when everything goes well the cats are happy and content sleeping in the box.

But lately the cats haven’t been getting what they need. And they get a bit testy.

Right now, I’m very homesick. So family time is like food for the cats. It’s not so bad when I’ve been away for a while because then the cats are weak from hunger and they just can’t fight the box so much. But, then I go home and feed them and all of a sudden they have the strength to fight to escape. It almost makes me consider not coming home.

There are other things that can tip the odds in the cats’ favor. Like exhaustion. Exhaustion is like getting the box wet. And then the cats can claw their way out of the wet cardboard like it’s…wet cardboard.

The moral of the story is I cried a lot today. And not for any good reason other than I was really really tired. I need to work more naps into my life.