The Night Before

Christmas Eve has arrived. It's snowing ... not here, but somewhere. Outside my window, all I see is wet, brown grass. How festive.
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Pardon my mood, dour as it is. The prospect of being unemployed in 7 days, in the midst of the worst economic times of the past 70 years, has beaten me down a bit. But I brought this upon myself, so I suppose this suffering is deserved. Or at least self-imposed.
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I'm not sure what happens next. Not sure at all. I don't know where I will live, what I will do, how much money I will make, what I will be like, how I will think or even what I will look like. I have become a mess. But that's OK for now because I am changing. I am a tarantula just after molting -- weak and vulnerable.
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I am fortunate. I have no real problems other than indecision, depression and a general malaise that makes me want to do not much of anything. I have days where life looks wonderful, where all I want to do is laugh. I also have days where nothing makes sense and I want nothing more than to sit in a dark room and brood and think my way to oblivion.
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I am lonely and have been for some time. My social skills, once abundant and frequently used, have dwindled. I second-guess myself. The sound of laughter makes me wonder, "Is that directed at me?" I have no confidence. My self-esteem ... kaput. I say all this for a reason: to voice it and leave it there, in the open -- removing the poison from my body. It worked once before. Let's see if it works a second time.
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I am thankful for the good in my life. I am thankful for this wonderful world, for its natural beauty, for my place in it. All I want is to get my head straight and start taking chances and making tough decisions and ... well, start living my damn life again. That is what I wish for myself.
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Merry Christmas, 2008.