2016 Can Kiss My Ass

So, I was awakened this Christmas morning by two, pissed off, warring cats and a tender back.  Upon further inspection, I had a large and deep cat scratch on my back.  Ted Nugget came early this year.  I was actually dead asleep, for a change.  I had slept a glorious 6 hours, only to be awakened suddenly, and with a huge cat scratch on my back.  Great.  Sums up December about right.

December 4th, I had a shower flashback with Mr. Roach.  It took a minute for me to get back in the shower.  Hey, when, I’m not even getting into it, because there’s no pint to it.  Just that nothing was sacred.  And physical insult to injury.  And laughter.  To top it all off. SO, I have been a mess all December.  But, I had Christmas Spirit.

Had, being the operative word.  I swear.  I had the Christmas spirit back in August when I began shopping for Christmas.  I found my present opening day of Allegan in August.  I think I may actually, finally get it today.  Big, ole Squash Blossom necklace.  20 years in the making.  But, I have had zero Christmas spirit over the past three days.

Friday I had a nuclear meltdown.  I actually finally got pissed at 2016.  For being such a selfish and cruel year.  Enough flashbacks, enough depression, enough tragedy, enough death, enough drama, enough celebrity deaths, enough politics, enough tragedy.  Just enough.  Every year since 2012, I put out memes, that say this next year will be- blah, blah.  Not this year.  2016 taught me a thing a two.  Every year though, at this time, I wonder where I’ll be this time next year.  I just simply pray that I’ll be in a better place than I was last year, or even yesterday.  But last night, nay, all day yesterday, I was just in a foul mood.

I just was grateful- not even really- that this was a pagan holiday.  Because that way I didn’t feel so bad for having zero Christmas spirit.  I just had none.  And I don’t even want to wrap presents this morning.  This morning!   Procrastination?  Way to wait till the last minute.  I mean, I don’t like what I got people.  I don’t like the paper I have, I want to go back to sleep, but can’t, I think my cat and Santa did a drug deal in the chimney, because that fucking cat has been LIVE for two hours.  I’m about ready to slip him a downer.  Chill the fuck down!  Jesus!  I just don’t fucking care.  I can’t fake it.  I’m a person I used to fake for years, acting- carrying on- the show must go on, now?  Fuck.  If it ain’t there, I can’t conjure it up.  I had a HUGE flashback the 18th.  Happens every year.  I was attacked and sexually assaulted under the Christmas Tree when I was 7 by the son.  So, I don’t get Christmassy till the 23rd.  Before I’m good, then, about the 21st-22nd, I’m useless.  But the 23rd, I rally and my Christmas spirit comes flying out.

I have none.  Zip.  Zero.  I got nothing.  I’m listening to Christmas music now. I know Christmas spirit is a feeling, not a season.  I know this.  But never in my life, have I gave less fucks, none, to be honest, than ever in my life.  Christmas was always a respite.  Always the ye of the storm.  This year, this whole year has just been an electrical sandstorm.  Just pure, unadulterated chaos.  I hate it.  I hate it.  It’s 4:30.   I want to go back to bed.  But I should get my ass to a meeting.  I know that will help.  I only got my tree up yesterday and the garland up yesterday as well.

I suppose I should cut myself a break.  I mean, at least I have Christmas spirit.  Most people who have been through what I have been through this year and especially around Christmas, every year, would totally phone it in.  Actually, they probably wouldn’t even phone it in, they wouldn’t even pick up the damn phone.  And I really don’t want to go up north.  It’s NOT that I don’t want to see my family, I love seeing my family- I can only hope the feeling is mutual- but I just don’t want to hear it all Jesus and church and Christmas.  Cuz, in January?  The church flashbacks and church starts.  It never fucking ends!!!!

I have decided I deserve a vacation.  This summer I am going up to the UP, like Tahquahmenon Falls, somewhere up there, Pictured Rocks.  I’ve never been to Petosky.  Never.  I fucking live in Michigan, yes.  I am aware it is a huge state, but dammi!  I should see some natural beauty.  I just feel so fucking ornery.  Nothing feels good.  Nothing sounds good.  I wanted to kill my father yesterday.  Was supposed to get my hair done two days in a row, made the appointment and everything.  DIdn’t even feel like that.  I just don’t care.  I don’t think more sleep is really going to help either.  I just don’t want to be around people.  Especially with presents and shit.  And, giving a shit.

I know!  I know!  It’s family.  It’s Christmas.  Be grateful dammit, it could be worse.  Yes, I know.  I realize this could very well be the last year I spend Christmas with any grandparent, let alone my last grandparent, my grandma.  Which is why I emphasized getting her Heineken- a good beer- for Christmas.  Fuck, she’s 101.  How many people can say that?  I know how lucky I am.  Last Christmas I’m going to spend with Zoe, the dog.  I love that fucking dog.  It’s bittersweet.  And for all I know, God forbid, something happens, and this could be the last Christmas I spend with my parents.  My mother’s mind is going…or else she is just stressed, I hope.  But she is confusing and forgetting things.  It’s concerning me.  My father is just in his own world.  Which none of us are invited into.  And I’m over here, wanted to spend the holiday with my cats.  Clawed back n all.

I felt a tinge yesterday.   Like, about my old therapist.  This is the first holiday I don’t have her to talk to about my flashbacks.  I always have her.  Nope, this year is different.  Boy Howdy is it ever.

I woke up Friday and asked myself- to get myself in the holiday spirit- what do you want to do today?  I didn’t have an answer.  I didn’t know.  So, I asked myself, what would make you happy?  Nothing.  Not a clue.  Big fucking problem.  Huge problem.  I usually rebound from the flashback and I do really well.  Not this year.  No bouncing back.  I just have to accept it.  I need to accept that I have zero holiday spirit.  I’ve bounced back for the last 7 years.  I think I can just enjoy being.  How about I try that?

Just, no flashback aftershocks, no holiday pressure, no escaping into the future, or retreating into the past, or look-they really have their christmas shit together.  Their kid is actually tracking santa on google.  I remember when the AM radio hosts would get tipsy on eggnog and make up Santa sightings.  They never made sense to me, but I had hope.  I think hope is what Christmas is really about.  I’ve always struggled with hope.  Always.  Maybe this Christmas will be different.  I mean, after all, 2016 tried to take Carrie Fisher, but that shit didn’t happen.  So, maybe there really is hope…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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