A Halloween confession

Here's something.

I don't really like Halloween.

It makes me feel really, really inadequate. I am not the kind of person who likes to dress up in outlandish costumes. I also have a hard time relaxing these days around other people. I feel like I'm always wearing masks anyway, never really unable to tell most of the people I come into contact what I feel about anything. In order to do my job right, I have to check so much of myself and put it away. 

But it's more than that, too. I can't imagine spending time to get a costume together. The idea of it all makes me anxious. My life is one where relaxation takes the form of hanging out by myself without a deadline. I feel anxious when I let my guard down, nervous that maybe I said the wrong thing.

I'm happy for others who like the holiday and don't at all want to have people think I want others to not enjoy themselves. I just get a weird, sad melancholy when Halloween comes around and I'm not entirely in the fun. 

I don't know how to be in the fun anymore. Fun is for other people. 

Do I really believe that? 

I think I do. 

Though, my feeling of uncertainty could also come from this being the beginning of the holiday season, which is not my favorite time of year at all. I look forward to January 1 when the new year begins and hope returns, hope that maybe the next time around the sun won't feel as difficult. 

Sadly, though, they're all just going to get more difficult until the end comes. That's the most horrifying thing I can think of, and it's not at all supernatural. 

As I approach the end of the 1st quarter of my 42nd year, I reflect that somehow I've managed to find happiness amidst the challenges of my life.  I take joy from being alive and having a mix of emotions swimming around my brain and body. There's a tremendous amount of meaning in my life.

But, I do wish that holidays didn't make me anxious. But I'm comfortable with the fact that they do. 

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