Christmas

Christmas is bittersweet in treatment. It has been a day full of emotional ups and downs for me. The staff have tried to make the holiday special, with games, little gifts and special food, but there is an underlying current of sadness. I miss home. As I opened my gifts from home I imagined my family opening the gifts I had wrapped for them weeks before when I left. As we had group, ate our meals and played games, I imagined what my family and friends would be doing that very moment. Would they be eating, napping, playing with new toys, would they be grumpy or happy? My thoughts are not in the present moment, and in some ways all I can do is simply make it through the day without breaking down.
What does the holiday means when what it meant most to me is altered or taken away? I feel empty, wondering what's left when I'm away from my family, and I can't even engage in my eating disorder to comfort and numb myself. The superficial falls away and I am left with the bare bones of the Christmas spirit. It's something like... like love and hope, a promise of new meaning in life, something like peace and joy, deep and unshakeable. It's a simple miracle, it's God becoming a baby so that he could live among us and carry our burdens for us. I need a simple miracle now. I need to be able to hope, to have faith. I need to be able to trust that I am here for a reason at this hardest of times, and to surrender my own agenda for God's. Do I have that ability? I waver between a glimpse of these things and the hopelessness of depression and cynicism. I'm almost afraid to be happy.