I'm a 76 year old and there is no joy in Christmas at this stage of life. There are wonderfull memories of Christmases when the children were young; but all that changes in later life.
I live (exist) beside an illegal boarding kennel and sometime next week the first of the whining, yelping, howling and barking will begin. This will continue, as always, for the holiday period. I have been writing letters and making phone calls seeking help for three years without success. Today I spent three and a half hours on the phone and am now extremely frustrated and depressed. The Executive Officer, Local Laws, of the council recognises that this has destroyed my mental and physical health but tells me that I should find some way to live with it.
In my present mental state I see two options: The first is to join the 2500 or so other Australians who suicide each year. The second is to "sort out" my neighbor and spend the rest of my life in prison. My experience on the telephone this afternoon suggests that there are no other options.
I'll now spend a few hours in mindfullness exercises and try to survive for a while longer. One must keep trying, but hope can be very difficult to maintain when one is so isolated.