Christmas Blues

After Christmas, wallowing in loving feelings for my close family and friends, I always get the blues. I can't help it-- it's this guilty feeling that starts in the pit of my stomach and works its way up to my throat, where it sits and rests. It rather burns, and I suppose it's that feeling of guilt when I see those less fortunate than I on the street during the after-Christmas shopping.

They always seems so accusatory, which they have the full right to be. I feel guilty-- and I start asking God why I am so lucky to be blessed with family and friends during this time of year. And then, I start wondering why I'm seeking God's forgiveness for such a thing. I don't even believe in God.

We went to Catholic Mass on Sunday night, and though I could not take communion, as I am not Catholic, I went forward anyway and got a blessing.

I told my father, "If I have to be here, I might as well save my immortal soul."

Such blasphemy. I felt guilty saying it, but it's true. I want the easy way out. I want to never believe during the year, and as soon as Christmas comes around, suddenly conform to my parent's religion and become a Christian again. And tada, I'm saved.

But I know that's not enough, and because I don't believe in God, that shouldn't matter. But it does. I think I want my parent's approval and happiness more than I want God. They want me to be 'saved' and as long as I live in their house, I'm going to have to keep pretending to be God's child.

I'm sure the homeless couldn't care less about my miserable issues with divinity.