Yeah, I know it’s weird, a 28-year-old lady writing you in a blog. Well, I only have one wish this year, and he’s online with me now. Let me tell you how I happened on this one wish.
It was years ago. I was an adolescent girl, having crushes, crushes, and more crushes that turned deadly. At only 13 I had a huge crush on a Backstreet Boy. At fifteen, my first crush on a real person who wasn’t a celeb, at nineteen, someone I truly loved. Well, I had to move on, after all, I thought the man I loved at nineteen was only feeling sorry for me. That’s unacceptable, Santa, and we all know that.
Well, Santa, as many times as my dad wanted me to be a good girl, guess what? My parents? They’re on the naughty list for the following reasons: they refuse to see the beauty in Colorado, they refuse to support marriage, they refuse to get rid of what they themselves put me in which is a deep dark pit called a Guardianship. Santa, I really would wish that I had my freedom, and you know, that would be what I’m asking for. But I don’t know if Blake will be allowed to see me again, so you know what? Life is short, so give me this opportunity to spend a good Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve with Blake. I’ve never kissed Blake on the eve of New Year’s, and guess what? I want to. I would give anything to show the church, the world, the rest of the universe that Blake has what it takes to be a husband. Nobody felt compassion for me, nobody did at all in Titusville and Brevard County. Excuse me, but Santa, I would ask you for Orien years back, but guess what? Orien is unwilling to see the big picture. HE’s unwilling to see that I’m a person and my name is Beth, not Pity and I’m not a pitiful creature. Blake sees me as a grounded bird in a cage, someone who must fly with him into the mountains. So Santa, as this is a bit of a flowery and weird letter, do me a favor and give me the following things for Christmas:
1. Blake, of course. All the stuff I discussed earlier.
2. My freedom in 2015.
3. A less heavy body that doesn’t need to be told when to have a period. I am not able to conceive or have periods because of the weight gain on Abilify over the long term.
4. I want Kathy to smile. Please, Santa, make Kathy smile. Even if it’s a weird antic her dog does. Oh, she got a new puppy. So let’s see if you can make Kathy and Gypsy smile for Christmas. Even when Kathy is sad that Blake is gone, I want her to know that he’s in safe and capable hands with his future bride.
5. More money for bills, a bigger check, etc. I want a job too. And a real regular life. And best of all, Santa,
6. I want a more peaceful world. I don’t like the chaos with the Ebola stuff going on in Africa. I’m tired of Somalis coming here and killing their own daughters for the sake of what they call “honor.” Well, it’s high time Someone teach them a lesson in real honor and respect. IF the daughters aren’t safe, put ’em in some form of foster care. That’s all.
I could quote the words of Amy Grant’s (and many others’) Grown Up Christmas List, but I’m not asking for a Power Ranger toy or some Barbie toy or anything. Toys don’t make happiness. Opportunities and regular stuff does. Sometimes, the humdrum stuff does make people somewhat at peace. But I want to be at peace, Santa. Even if you would rather bring the kids Power Ranger toys and micromachines rather than a grown woman a chance at disability rights. At some point, Santa, bring me an attorney, not wrapped in paper, no glittery bow, so I can talk to that person about how to go about the Florida statute that’s making everything so complicated. Santa, bring me a bunch of supportive doctors and stuff. And if Dr. Rogriguez wants something, give him the peace of mind in knowing that one patient of his wants to live a better life.
We went down on one med, and that med is causing an overall slowdown in metabolic performance, so Santa, help me lose weight in the new year. Ok, that’s settled. That is MY grown up Christmas list for the year.
Your little angel,