When I Fall Apart {my wonderful Christmas present}

My head hasn’t been a very pleasant place to be this week.

I’ve had so much fun doing all my Christmas things – playing Santa and Mrs. Claus for a family, the parties, having all of my second family back in town for the first time in a long time. I even got my quiet time in with this story by the wonderful Kate Seredy:

We even made donuts Christmas Eve, which was like the world’s second funniest thing this week (the funniest was going to the grocery store dressed up as the Clauses.)
All of these things have been amazing and I’ve enjoyed  every second (although some of the parties got a bit loud for my poor head after having wisdom teeth pulled on the 18th, and I had to zone out for a bit) but in between, it hasn’t been always lovely. 
It reminds me of my poem Consumed I shared a month or so ago, and the line in it of butterflies are not only lovely things.

There’s going to be rough patches. There are going to be times when I fall down so hard I don’t think I can ever get up again. I’m 100% sure this is not the last time I will fall apart. It is the inevitably of humanity: that we have fallen.
But humans are strange creatures. I was reminded of that this evening as I had two very dear friends who live thousands of miles away talking me through a very hard panic attack. Why on earth they would care about me, little miserable soggy Annie, way far away in the land of snow and ice and black bears, was a mystery to me for a moment.
But then it wasn’t. 
Connection. The inevitably of love. Caring that pours from a heart that loves. 
They were there with me because in a way, that’s what you do. A friend needs you so of course, you help them. It’s giving love sneakers, to quote the ever fabulous Hannah Beth. Humanity is not dying. Humanity is learning to breathe. If we’re falling, maybe it’s because we’re learning to stand.
Where I’m sitting now, calmed down and all right, is a good place. And where I’ve been this week has been good too. Not happy all the time, but that’s not really what I’m after. Happiness is wonderful but I know from years of experience that it only goes so far. I’m gradually putting myself back together and becoming the best Annie that I can be, and this evening was another piece. 
Because even if it’s not okay, if the direction I’m pointing is forward, then it will be okay. And the fact that it will be okay means that I can be fine with being where I am. 
It’s okay. 
And it’s okay because I won’t always be fallen apart. I’m not always fallen apart, even now.
And I think sometimes we forget that – I know sometimes I forget that. This Christmas has been different than any before, but then, I’m different than I’ve ever been. 
So yes, including all the ugly snot-filled crying, panic attacks, and meltdowns, I had a very good Christmas holiday.
I’m looking forward to 2018 and what that will bring.
Story in video is from Kate Seredy’s novel, The Singing Tree. Click here to visit her Amazon page. No claim is made towards this work and all rights belong to the author and her heirs and representatives.

Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash

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