I think, I hope, that it’s just the darkness that’s killing me. About an hour after the sun went down, I had to put my head down. I don’t know what I want to do. I can’t deal with all this free, empty time. I can’t even think crazy thoughts any more. I’m just…spent. I don’t know how else to put it.

Christmas doesn’t have the same cachet that it use to. I don’t know what it is. I guess it’s just the fact that things in my life have failed to change after all this time. Yearly celebrations are like that, I guess. I tend to feel that way about my birthday, too.

I suppose I ought to be grateful. At least I have my family. I guess there’s that.

But one of these days, I’d like things to be different in a good way. I need to grow out of this abyss that I’m finding myself in. It’s been a good decade or so, and it’s not until now that I realize how miserably emotionally stunted I am. The trick, I suppose, is that I need to not be afraid. I can’t wallow in this pit of despair and worry myself to death about how the walls are closing in, and how the potentiality of my life grows less and less as I persist in my maladaptive behavior over time. Given enough time, patience, and maybe a little luck, this can be overcome. I just have to keep striving.

There is another part of me that is just exhausted. Hopefully, like I said, this is related to the time of year, and my seasonal affective disorder. Hopefully, as the days start to lengthen again, I’ll get better, I’ll feel this weight lift from me. Because right now, I stare at the long climb ahead, and I just want to give up. I feel like I’ve been striving desparately all my life, and I barely manage to keep my head above water.