It's that time again.

I feel like I always make a post around this time of year, because I do. I always have a lot on my mind and a lot that I carry at this time. The valuable and meaningful aspects of this holiday all revolve around family. My family has been broken for as long as I can remember. We are broken as a unit and we are often times broken as individuals in one way or another. Because of that it's pretty much impossible for me to be happy.

I have a lot to be grateful for, but the entire crutch of this family is that we don't know how to connect or be with one another, so holidays like this are doomed to fail. We all put on a nice face and suffer through it (at least I do). It's the one day of the year that leaves me feeling the most empty, when it's intended for the opposite. And every time the day rolls around, I'm reminded that nothing has changed for us.

The one person in this family that has done nothing but show me love, care, and support is stuck in a nursing home and can't be with us. The whole thing just makes me sick.

I've been called a Scrooge and the Grinch for my attitude toward the holidays. But I will never understand why so much time goes into providing for and enjoying time with your family for this holiday, for two days, instead of applying that sort of care and compassion every day of the year with not only family but everyone else, too. As for my family, I will never understand why they can't even do it genuinely for one day, for this one Holiday.

I appreciate the intended meaning of Christmas for family, but it's never about that with mine. I don't like being this negative, or whining or whatever, but I just have to get these thoughts and feelings out so I can at least attempt to have hope for tomorrow and to not be miserable and disappointed.

Maybe things will change this year. Sadly, though, I doubt it.

December.

Life has been as crazy as ever the past two months. I've been jumping from one thing to the next nonstop between SP, school, work, TAN, family, friends, etc. It becomes stressful and mentally overwhelming quickly, but not having a lot to do gets me emotionally and physically exhausted. Now that the fall semester has finally ended, I find my mind free to wander again. There is freedom in that, but it's also dangerous for me. I've said it time and time again, and unfortunately it is still true--I'm incredibly self-destructive and I don't know how to stop.

I try holding everything in and to let it fade away or roll off my shoulders, I try confronting situations and people to find a solution. I try to do nothing I try to do something. No matter what I do, I feel like I end up where I started. I try to evolve as a person, and I have in many ways, but for what? Even approaching things freely, openly, objectively, logically, maturely, whatever that doesn't change anything. It doesn't change other people. It doesn't change the world. It doesn't necessarily even change the situation. It changes me and that's it. What good does changing and growing for myself do, if everything else stays the same? Then I'm just existing in my own existence, right?

I honestly try every day to be good and do good for both myself and everyone around me through small and big acts alike. It's not that I want to be constantly rewarded or to receive some ultimate recognition or prize or anything. I just want to be appreciated and respected, not revered or adored, but simply appreciated. Is that greedy and selfish for me to want that? Am I supposed to just give and give and give until there's nothing left? I'm not asking that the whole world lift me up. A pat on the pack every once in a while would be nice, though.

I hate saying these sorts of things, because I feel guilty and I feel ungrateful because I know I have a very fortunate life compared to many peoples' circumstances. I know that and it pains me to know that so many people suffer terribly and completely alone. I have family and friends and so I'm not alone. But they make me feel that way sometimes. Some tear me down and whether they are joking or not, it's hurtful. The others don't necessarily tear me down, but they don't build me up either. I think that's why my love and appreciation for Grandpa and Grandma runs so deep within me--because I never once doubted their love, appreciation, and respect for me. Not once. Everyone else, with the exception of a few high school friends, I've doubted every single day. A lot of that is my insecurities, I will own up to that. However, a lot of it is a lack of understanding, respect, and care from certain people in my life.

We're all here and yet no one takes care of each other. No one cares for one another.

What hurts me most is not that this is the case necessarily, but that this may always be the case and that there is no hope for change. That nothing will make a difference in the long run. That scares me to death.

I want to believe that one day my life will change enough to where my hopes and goals can at least be a possibility and that I can at least have the chance to make them a reality with sincerity and dedication. I want to be able to end the cycle this family and many of my friends have created of passing along the inability to love and care for each other. I want it to stop. I want to love my children and teach them and let them teach me. I want to listen to them. I don't want to watch them go through high and lows, but to support them. I don't want them to cry alone. I don't want to give them answers, but allow them to discover their own (questions, too).

I want the game to change and the cycle to break. I want to be together, in every sense of the word. I want these things to at least be possible. I want something I do or say or think or feel to mean something to someone. I want that to make a difference.

My mom always says I have too high of expectations, when really I think my expectations are low. I just wish people would prove me wrong sometimes.