Seems I’m leaning toward writing about seconds, more specifically the second worst things in my life. Am I saving the worst things for last? Seems that way. But I will write about the longest day of my life, and the worst Christmas I promise. They’re at least a fun read. Someone once told me my life is like a movie with too many plot twists and turns to be real. I wish. The worst Christmas is a long drawn out saga of travel and adventure…haha. But it did have a happy ending, sorta.
But let’s talk about the Second Worst Christmas. Apologies for the shorter length of this, I’m in a fight at the moment. Nothing new, just my body is waging war against an invader, yet to be identified. Whatever is happening, it’s like I’m an innocent bystander who is forced to endure an ever worsening fight with pain, inflammation and severe nausea. The pain in my gut is crippling, and I’m relegated to laying in bed all day, stopping every so often for a cig and more ginger ale..
I used to have a good memory, nowadays my short term is slipping a bit. Like I can’t remember why I went in the pantry a minute ago, it will come to me when I sit back down. And then I have to get up again. One of those things old people laugh about, when it’s not really that humorous.
I do remember what happened years ago in better detail than last week, which is good for when you write about your past. Not so good when you can’t remember taking your meds 3 hours ago.
One of those talents is remembering lyrics from long dead songs and longer dead bands. CSN&Y was one of my favorites growing up. That’s Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, not another crime show. They sang about the hippie generation, about protests, and drugs of course.
I have the lyric “Must be because I had a flu for Christmas” playing in my head because that’s exactly what happened. Another fine example of not being able to write anything new and exciting because it’s all been written already.
Sure enough, even though I had intended to enjoy myself over the holidays, my body failed me miserably. I awoke at 1:20am Christmas morning, not in anticipation of the gifts Santa brought, but with the sudden eye-opening realization that I needed to be in the bathroom post haste. From my normal sleeping spot on the couch to the powder room takes 23 steps, or 12 seconds, but I made it in 10 leaps and bounds in 6 seconds flat. Then all hell broke loose, with the emphasis on “loose.”
For the next 4 days that was my entire routine. Lay on the couch, run to the bathroom, go up to bed, run to the other bathroom. Heaven help the missus if she was in my way, or in the bathroom. After day 2 I couldn’t understand what was possibly left because my holiday feast was now ginger ale, topped off with more ginger ale. Even looking at a saltine cracker or a cup of plain boring chicken broth would turn my stomach.
The second worst Christmas of my full 68 years. I felt horrible, and felt even worse for screwing up all the plans my wife had. The big catered Christmas dinner sat spoiling in the fridge, one or two items going in the trash as another day went by. I was only happy we were spending the day alone, not having invited anyone over. Even though we rarely do.
Since then I have been extremely down, disheartened and discouraged.
That was 2 weeks ago, and as depression has a tendency to do, the feeling has only worsened.
I can’t get motivated to do anything. Nothing at all. My writing has stalled midair, the piano gathers dust, and none of it interests me. Of course the lake is nearly frozen over, and when it dips below freezing the ice forms on your guides (the little loops on the rod your line goes through) so you can’t cast a fly line anyway.
Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) can be added to my list of things wrong with me. All dark and no sun makes Kyd a sad sort. More vitamin D helps a little, and I try to be positive in thinking March is just around the corner, but it ain’t working. It’s bad enough having chronic depression, but when coupled with SAD you just feel lower than you thought possible.
The big difference this year? I’m not crying or breaking down, which in some ways worries me. I’m so far down I don’t care anymore. And that’s worrisome. I resolutely face depression understanding I am powerless against it.
So I take the bad days with the bad, running out of patience waiting for my life to turn around.
I know, I know….get over it.
Maybe I’ll write about my worst Christmas ever next, cheer myself up.
Happy New Year. Let the battle begin.
Almost Cut My Hair
By Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
Almost cut my hair
It happened just the other day
It’s gettin’ kinda long
I coulda said it wasn’t in my way
But I didn’t and I wonder why
I feel like letting my freak flag fly
Yes, I feel like I owe it to someone
Must be because I had a flu for Christmas
And I’m not feeling up to par
It increases my paranoia
Like looking at my mirror and seeing a police car
But I’m not giving in an inch to fear
‘Cause I promised myself this year
I feel like I owe it to someone
When I finally get myself together
I’m going to get down in that sunny southern weather
And I’ll find a place inside to laugh
Separate the wheat from the chaff
I feel like I owe it
To someone, yeah