This used to be my favorite time of year.
I realized the other day that I don’t remember what its like to not live with at least some level of discomfort.
That was a tad bit upsetting.
Then it dawned on me that its mid November. Commence immediate downward spiral.
This freaking gloomy weather. And that client of mine who I have spent the last six weeks of my life jumping through hoops for who still isn’t happy with what I’ve done EVEN THOUGH YOU WON’T GIVE ME ANY FEEDBACK….all I want for Christmas is for you to retire, k?
I’ve had a really hard time with the holidays for the past several years and everytime I swear I’m not going to be a Grinch, I think I make it worse.
The thing is that I have a really hard time seeing all of this….in your face bright and shiny happiness…because it focuses my attention on everything I feel like I don’t have or have had to give up thanks to RA or the fact that hey, I just plain feel like crap. It sometimes feels like a slap in the face.
My family can intense this time of year. To loosely quote Ozzy Osbourne- ‘I love you all…but you’re all friggin mad!’ I just don’t even want to deal with them. No offense, I’m sure they’d say the same about me sometimes.
I’ve been dealing with less than effective meds since March. The fact that I’m still in such a strong flare is more upsetting than I know how to write.
There are other reasons too, just not ones I’m willing to post here.
I realized the beginnings of a selfish meltdown and started feeling even crappier.
For some reason, I started thinking about how growing up, we’d make cinnamon bread and Moravian stars. And proceeded to get even more upset because I knew, just KNEW, that I couldn’t make those stars anymore because it involves lots of intricate folds with tiny slips of paper.
And then I did something unusual. I tried to make a star. And succeeded.
I am apparently overthinking things as usual. Important lesson learned.