Fake it til You Make it

For those of you that find your eyes glancing across this blog on more than one occasion and ever have thoughts involving my writing to be insightful or grown up or anything along those lines, well then just skip this post. I would rather leave those thoughts intact. Although I doubt those thoughts really are occurring. So I will just get on with my dreary, immature post.

I hear people talking about faking it til you make it. We all do it at some point, at least I think so. If you act like you know what you are talking about, or you exude confidence then people will believe it. But you cant always fake it. Every so often the truth rears its ugly, self conscious head, and thats when we are reminded that we have just been faking it.

That awesome truth decided to just take my face and shove it hard into the fact that I am faking it. I could tell you how excited I am that Christmas Eve is tomorrow. I mean Christmas has always been my favourite holiday. I have a million traditions, and I hate when they are broken. My best memories growing up involve Christmas. But not this year. I hate that tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I just want to skip the holiday this year, just forget that it happened. I dont want to forget the birth of Christ, I just wish I was in a cave where there would be no celebrations.

I smile as I go out. I ask about others plans and eagerly share mine. But underneath its a different story. I can barely sleep or function normally with the thought of the impending holiday. I dont look at my Christmas shrine and feel the love that went into those neatly wrapped presents. Instead all I see are the other ones, and the card. That writing is all too familiar. I almost dont want to open it. I know it will just hurt. And perhaps I will be able to bare the pain of reading the words and opening those few things, but having to talk to you about it will be more than I can handle.

And then there is the part that should be happy. I do want to skype with you all so much. I know you are trying to maintain tradition. But its broken, we all know it. And I want to see your shining faces as you see what I left under that tree but deep down I know that we all will be crying inside, even if we fake it on the outside, and I doubt I will be able to fake it.

So as much as I tried to fake it for myself, and maybe for all of the happy people here, I cant do it anymore. Which I suppose means I didnt make it. I am not sitting here looking forward to a happy Christmas. I am sitting here thinking my tears are comparable to the torrential rains that flood my road nearly daily. I am sitting here wishing the aching pain I feel through my whole being would just stop. And I am hoping that I can just survive the holiday, thats all. I dont need it to be glorious or anything, I just want to survive it. Because right now it feels like I am drowning.