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Wednesday, December 22, 2010

I'm whining. You've been warned.

So my birthday came and went. I tried to keep myself occupied that day by doing anything other than thinking.. I think that in the days leading up to this "event," I went overboard on being afraid of what the day would actually be like. I dreaded it. I wasn't expecting a ghost to appear in my room, or anything like that, but her presence was with me the entire day. I got through it.. and in the weeks that have followed, which have been entirely stressful just because of my ridiculous stressors, I have managed to forget I am even adopted. I regressed back to the woman I was in my 20's, who didn't have the time, the energy, the want to consider that I even was adopted.

That worked for approximately 13 days.

Which brings me to today. The Wednesday before Christmas.

I am not in a holiday mood. I absolutely adore Christmas, I really do. Every year, I wait until the last possible moment to buy gifts. I say I work better under pressure but I'm really just a procrastinator. Every Christmas Eve, we bake cookies for Santa, go look at lights, come home, tuck kids in bed and eat the cookies left for the big guy. We usually do something really neat for the kids so when they wake up, they can see Rudolph's paw prints in the faded grass of summer, or sprinkle some glitter out in the driveway showing that yes, Santa really is real.

They're all too old for that crap anyway, these days.
I ate the cookie dough watching Millionaire Matchmaker yesterday afternoon.
I've kindof just checked out. I went to Best Buy yesterday to get a computer for one of the kids. I almost tore the clerk's head off his skinny little shoulders. I promptly went home, thanking Christ the other kids just want money this year.

Bah Humbug.

I'm sad. Just so sad. All I want for Christmas is my mother. I can't seem to get it together.Pushing this hurt and pain down is good for the other people in my life. They don't have to deal with it. So I walk around with a giant fake smile plastered on my face. Tell them I'm just fine. Inside I'm dying. I don't want to pretend to enjoy Christmas this year. Just one foot in front of the other these days. It's my only goal.
One of my mother's stepdaughters,April, has pictures up on her FB of one of the Christmases she was lucky enough to spend with my mother and my sisters and brother.She went out of her way to post these pictures for me, and I am forever in her debt. Oh, how I envy her. It was the same Christmas I woke up in the middle of the night, took my amom's candle that had been left burning all night, and snooped for presents. Unbeknownst to me, blue wax dripped around the entire tree, embedding in the lovely new carpet. I wish I had been with Betsy.

I guess I'm going to have to break down and get to the doctor. It's all just too much. They say you never know how strong you are until it's your only option.
I don't want to fake the smile this year. I don't want to drive the 2 hours to my aparents home and pretend that I'm okay because they don't want to hear otherwise. If I didn't have my kids, I would stay in the bed the entire day.. maybe the rest of my miserable life.

I am not okay. No one sees that.