I love the the lights, Christmas music, and joy in December.  It feels like mania lite.  When I was young, Christmas felt like the time of year when all of the dysfunction was shelved and magical things could happen.  My whole family seemed to get along, or at least fake it for the sake of the holiday.  A few years back, my mother was dying during Christmas season.  I remember hearing sooo much Christmas music and thinking it would be ruined forever for me.  Thankfully, it held its magical properties.  I even listen sometimes out of season when I’m feeling down.

Things are moving quickly this Christmas season.  I’m moving to a new apartment in less than a week, and my brother is here visiting in our current tiny apartment.  I’m also turning 40 this month.  Yikes, I don’t think I’ve typed that before.  I’m worried that I’m overreaching this month.  Good and bad stressors are swirling in my brain.  I don’t have much to write today about bipolar disorder right now, I’m too drawn to the annual viewing of “A Christmas Story”.