Thursday, November 25

better than this

I've been exhausted for the last two weeks - like someone punched a slow leak in my life force. Yesterday was bad - I lost my bank card for five minutes and completely melted down. Today is okay, today is better. That seems to be how it goes, still. The anticipation is worse.

I want to be better than this this year. I want the holidays to be reasonably okay. I want to feel like me. But I don't get a choice in the matter. What a strange thing. These grief attacks have become like a virus. They creep up on me and knock me out for a few days, and I don't see them coming any more.

I no longer know what will trigger me - the obvious things that used to knock me flat don't hurt nearly as much now. Sometimes there are no triggers at all that I can see - just a slow build up of frustration and irritation and struggle that results in restless sleep and sobbing under a throw on the couch and pitching a fit about my bank card.

Granted, I am cooking my first turkey ever for my family on Thanksgiving. I suppose that could be a trigger. But I don't feel worried about the turkey. The turkey will be fine. So will the mash and the gravy and the winter squash. I will get all these things done. The meal will be fine. I just don't know if I will be fine. I am damn tired of carrying this weight around - this weight that gets heavier at the holidays, no matter how determined I am to be cheerful.

It helps to write it down here. This way, I won't think about it so much over the next hour. And next Thanksgiving I will, I hope, be able to look back and read this and say, well, at least I feel better than that.

I have a lot to be thankful for - and I am. I love my family. I love my house. I love that we are surviving this recession reasonably well. I love our mountain and being surrounded by farms and living close to family. I love that we will have local pie and turkey and eggnog on our table today, and that Brian got the fire going at 7am this morning. I am grateful for all these things. I just wish my grief would notice and give my body a break.

Wishing everyone a slice of peace and contentment today, along with your slice of pie. xo

9 comments:

rebecca said...

Wishing you peace & strength today, hope that all goes smoothly with the Thanksgiving meal and you feel a bit of relief from the weight ((hugs))

teri said...

thinking of you

and sending and wishes for your day to go well

love you,
teri

Big Love, Big Acceptance - or so I say said...

Much love to you on this tough holiday, and difficult holiday time. I hope you too are able to delve into a slice of peace and contentment today.

Hope's Mama said...

Wish I could enjoy turkey and pie with you.
Happy thanksgiving. I sure did have a nice Thursday.
xo

Groves said...

Today felt very lonely and broken here, even with people I love in the house. I ended up going somewhere quiet and reading through your posts quite a ways back.

I'm so glad you write. I know you may not always feel like doing it, and that someday it may not be what you want anymore and you may decide to stop. That's all okay - I'm just glad you're here now, and for as long as you want to be.

I wish there were more people like you in the world...more people who know what you know and know how to say it the way you do.

Today some several-states-away relatives wanted to have a cheerful holiday chat over the computer, and I just couldn't pull it off. I can't hear one more time that I "look so good." No one wants to know how things are on the inside; just to assume they must be fine because the outside looks fine. At least, it looks fine to them. Or for some reason they pretend it does.

I really appreciate the way you don't pretend.

I'm thoroughly sad that your Angel Mae is not in your arms today. I wish she were - far, far less than you wish it, obviously. Angel Mae, you have a really great mother. Because of her we get to know you and we are really glad.

Thanks for what you contribute to the world by your writing. You make a difference.

Cathy in Missouri

biojen said...

I hope you do have a better year next year. Just try to be easy on yourself. I don't think we really have all that much control over our grief. It will lessen when we are ready.

I'm not doing well with the holidays, as I knew I wouldn't. I too just hope that next year is easier. I'm thinking of you and hoping you find some moments of peace and comfort.

Anonymous said...

Reading this, Jenni, I feel like we're in a similar place. The virus analogy is perfect. Love to you xx

Sara said...

Hope the day was better than expected. Hope you are doing okay.

I find the breakdowns without an obvious trigger frustrating. It's hard enough to lose it and know what set you off, but I just feel like I'm falling apart when I breakdown without an obvious trigger.

Ya Chun said...

The grief and the holidays are just plain tricky.

And this subtle grief is so difficult...

 

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