I have never been a big fan of the Christmas season. As a child, I learned to dread it's coming. My father, who struggled with depression and alcoholism, ramped up his pain at this time of the year. I inherited his tendency for both the demon rum and the depression. I tried to break the chain, but was only able to rein in the alcoholic overloading. Depression is part of me year round, but worse in December.
So here we are in a year tailor made for me to wallow in more depression than ever before in my life. Covid sucks, Trump sucks, and I discovered that what I suspected is actually true. The planet has been allowed to be run by self serving jerkwads proving that the average slob, peon, serf, or drooling minion is getting what they deserve. So yeah, I should be in depression heaven here.
Oddly, I feel more upbeat than Christmases from my recent past. For all the lousy and hateful things we have done to ourselves this past year, there has been a tidal wave of care sharing, as average folks coast to coast rose up to meet the various challenges of 2020. Against many odds and nattering idiots, millions of good people put nose to grindstone and carried our load.
Their existence has re-confirmed my faith in Humanity and I see lights at the ends of our tunnels.