I’m trying really hard to not be bitter but I’m only human. With the upcoming holidays literally harassing me every place outside of my bedroom, I’m filled with equal amounts of excitement and anxiety.
This is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year but what if it is god awful? I’m starting to feel like I’m walking a tightrope except if you know me, I have no balance whatsoever and trying to figure out how to carry this weight is increasingly difficult.
Every year, the second weekend of December, both sides of my family get together to pick out our Christmas trees. All twenty-two or so of us meet for breakfast at 8 am. We’d take up about half the diner and have two waitresses. Since my family is full of December birthdays, it’d usually fall on my Dad’s, my brother’s, my cousin’s, or my own, and we’d celebrate that with a candle-topped blueberry muffin.
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“You can be a bright thing in the midst of this darkness,” Hannah Brencher wrote to me in an email. I’ve obsessively replayed those words in my head and reflected on them the last two weeks. Perfectly timed and stated, they were the words I needed to hear, that I didn’t know I needed to hear.
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You're right, Sister Catherine Mary.
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What could be more frustrating than constantly searching for answers that logically and tangibly do not exist? Nothing, I say, nothing.
I know I wrote a whole post (Stages of Grieving a Diagnosis) a few months back about accepting this unknown world, which still stands entirely true but I failed to explicitly expand on the fact that step 5 is basically the trump card of all steps.
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Bravery is defined as 'courageous behavior or character' but I don't think the absolute meaning of it can ever be solidified until you've seen it with your own eyes. When I think of bravery, somebody's face pops into my head, and I'm like, "yeah... Cindy Lou-Who sets the bravery threshold level for me."
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