Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

Christmas to me…

Good morning. Merry Christmas! I mean if that’s your thing. I am finding that Christmas is not my thing at all. I won’t be writing about Yuletide and joy and decking the halls this morning. You are probably going to church for all of that, like I did for the first 18 or so years of my life. I won’t offer you any of that. In fact, I sit here wondering what all of that really is anyway? Reindeer and Christmas trees…baby Jesus in the manger and exorbitant spending landing so many in debt. Suicide rates climb and alcohol consumption sky rockets as we celebrate baby Jesus? What in the literal fuck? I mean no disrespect…truly. I just cannot help but wonder what all of this Christmas hype is really about? I can guarantee you that it is not about baby Jesus.

I landed in Hell last night and I’ve not re-emerged just yet. These feelings get pushed down and back every year and this year, stifled and repressed. Not this year…this year on Christmas morning as I open not one gift, and as I sit with no tree or Christmas decorations, I wish myself a merry Christmas. I wish you a merry Christmas. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got. This day is just another day to me. Unfortunately this day cuts me deeply and I’m not done bleeding just yet. Sherry was Christmas and although she was with me in my dreams, Sherry didn’t make it again this year for Christmas morning. The primal cries dislodging their way out of me this morning feel as though they are fracturing my very soul. Sherry was Christmas.

Days like today wreck me in ways that I cannot articulate. The world feels cold. The world is missing. Tangled up in tinsel and swiping credit cards like clockwork…pushing through crowds in a hurry to get the right sizes and the best deals…disregarding one another and human decency all together. Buying dead birds and stuffing them up their ass so that we can be thankful…ya, I don’t get it. I really have determined that don’t get it.

I remember the joy of Christmas and holding Shawn’s hand as we waited in the hall together for everyone to walk in together. We were so excited to see what Santa brought us! Our Christmases were magical and storybook…full of wonder and joy…family and friends…delicious food and gifts…our house was always a destination spot for sure. I am so thankful that Shawn and I are speaking again. Everything else and everyone else from Christmas past is gone from me. I don’t really feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry. I feel sad. I feel a little lost and empty. I hurt so deep and so badly last night that I prayed I wouldn’t wake this morning. I’ve not prayed that prayer in a while. I meant it. Alas my prayer was not answered and so I am down here in my studio…writing and trying to figure out how to come to life. I cannot stomach the mean and the nasty and the short and the snippet. I cannot understand the irritability and the frustration so present everywhere. The intolerance and the outright abuse all around me. I literally feel it killing my soul slowly and I am tired of fucking dying this slow and agonizing death, over and over and over again. I don’t want to be too much and I am. I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough and I do feel that way, a lot. I don’t want to make excuses for you as to why you are as you are to me. I don’t have any fucking idea why you are as you are to me. I only know that it hurts and I don’t like it. You left and I watched you. I’m not crazy as many suggest. I’m honest. In a dishonest world. The truth that I crave and the denial of it have always made me feel a little crazy I suppose. Talking about how I really feel on Christmas morning…who the fuck does that?! I mean really…who does that, ever? Who talks about what really hurts and how we really feel?

Being alone on Christmas morning isn’t any different than being alone on Thursday or Sunday…but it is, isn’t it? It is different and somehow it hurts more, doesn’t it? That loveless marriage hurts a lot more this morning, doesn’t it? The person you loved with your whole heart, who passed away and left you here…you feel that a bit more today, don’t you? The divorce and the custody battle…it all hits home on days like this…all you’ve lost…all you miss and long for…somehow it hurts worse this morning, doesn’t it? Maybe it doesn’t for you…and I am so happy if you are in a different place than I am this morning. I was once in a different place than I am this morning. I will be in a better place again.

This Christmas morning I could not blog about what I do not feel. I do not feel joy. I do not feel like tinseling the town. I am not digging gifts out from hiding places with a smirk across my face. I’m not playing Santa and passing out gifts under our family tree. I…just I…sit here feeling like a fucking bomb went off in my life. I see all of the pieces scattered everywhere and they look and feel familiar to me…and yet this must be someone else’s ground zero. This must be someone else’s life. This cannot be happening to me.

I just had morning coffee with Tamara and I feel a bit more grounded. We cried together. We hurt together. We come together…in all of this pain…I thank God that Tamara and I always come together. Tamara is my rock and I am so thankful.

Tamara and I decided to begin a new tradition this year for Christmas. A tradition that embodies who we are and how we feel. We are going to be spending our day today being of service. Please join us if you wish! We would love to have you!

Jesus was born in a manger, to a virgin. There was no room for baby Jesus in the inn and so they prepared a place for him in the barn. The wisemen came and gifted him gold, frankincense and myrrh. The gold is a symbol of kingship on earth. The frankincense, an incense, a symbol of deity. The myrrh, am embalming oil, a symbol of death. The shepherds left their flocks and came to the manger. The North Star their only light. The animals gathered around baby Jesus and it was fucking serene and beautiful and holy. How did we get from that manger to the commercialization and exploitation…the exclusion and the alcoholism, the debt and the wars we are waging…all in the name of Christmas?! For fucks sake, where is baby Jesus?!

On your way to your Christmas church service, how many less fortunate people did you pass right by, without a second thought? If Jesus is the reason for the season, I suggest we start being Christlike. If you attribute all of this holiday hype to that baby in the manger, then where is your frankincense? Shoving a turkeys ass full of stuffing while shoving another cocktail down your fillet…excluding that annoying family member and talking shit about the people not sitting with you…failing to set a place for those gone but not forgotten…and tipping back another egg nog…did you think that maybe you might be missing the whole point of Christmas?

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got. This day…Tuesday…is a good day to go out there and be love. Don’t take Christ out of Christmas and wonder why we are as we are. We are here to be of service…to walk each other home. We are here to love. Merry Christmas! Maybe take a moment to think about what Christmas is and what Christmas is not to you this year? Don’t continue someone else’s tradition that doesn’t jive with your soul. Don’t honor a tradition that you know absolutely nothing about. We are here to love each other. Our new Christmas tradition is that…to be love…to be loved…to be together. And so it is.

If you’ve nowhere to be today…come be with us. Seriously, message me if you want to be with us today. We would love to have you! All of you…everyone is welcome!

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