Happy sadness, dark light

It is that saddest of times and that happiest of times: to be child is to make this night almost unbearably slow with the certain knowledge that joy would follow in the morning. To be an adult alone it is almost unbearably sad to know that no joy comes in the morning -simply another day to be endured like so many others, only on this day there is premium for us lonely people to pay - we must smile and look like we are enjoying the season. I suppose faith might help but having little time for organised religion it looks a doubtful lifesaver.

Last year as many of you know I offended my sister with my 'humorous' remarks. I have seen her three times this year. She drives me mad but I miss her.

I have been fighting the demon voices this last week  -the ones that say no-one will miss you, the world would be an easier place without you in it, you're a waste of space of oxygen of state money. And - it is all true. And it is all true except when I come to the blog and 16,000 of you have read it and that 16,000 people know I am alive and find some worth in what I write and so for tonight the angels win.

Depression is lonely, hard to explain and fight. Christmas is not a time to be depressed and it is harder to fight now that at any other time of the year. So I hope your Yuletide is happy and bright and that 2012 brings us all the hope and happiness we all deserve. "God bless us everyone" , as Tiny Tim would say.

This has become a labour not of love but gritted teeth determination - I've written it twice - lost it twice, tried to upload a pretty picture and failed miserably.

It was going all about the angels that walk among us unknowingly and unknowing - but hey too new agey and mystical.

We live in a pretty mean world - or so we think - turn on the news, pick up a paper and it is murder, theft, poverty, abuse and evil. Oh - and Cheryl Cole :).

But, and here's the thing, how many of us really experience this? I've had the chance to find out recently and no-one, but no-one tried to rob me, rape me(55 and fat), murder me or in any way take advantage of me. To the contrary people were amazingly kind and patient and giving.

My friend Katz had to rush to London to help our best friend whose partner was dying - she got a taxi late at Charing Cross and cried quietly through the journey. He wouldn't take any money from her! Late night London - hardened cabbie - probably a big fare. He took nothing but gave her a moment of kindness at an impossibly sad time.

So yeah, I am back to angels - not the putti kind, although pretty, but the kind that don't know that they are but do good instinctively in times of care.

Even with the grey fog of depression that I live with I find it comforting to think that as well as politicians and Jon Venables, Peter Sutcliffe et al, there are real people who make me believe in angels.

xxx

Christie's Large Image Click on this if you want to see the pretty putti!