giving thanks

Every year, I try to take the time to list the things I’m thankful for, even if it happens at 2:00 in the morning.

I’m thankful that I have a job. It is frustrating and without benefits, but it’s a paycheck.

I’m thankful for my family and that they have dinner with all their relatives.

I am thankful that I get to cook and that I have friends to feed, that they’re excited to come to my home and join in my traditions.

I’m thankful that I will be seeing my family in 2 weeks for an early holiday.

I’m thankful I have a roof over my head, a roof with a fabulous kitchen, despite my claim to the contrary during my pre-festivities freakout.

I am most thankful for D. He is kind, and accepting and tolerant. He understands my tears even when he knows he can do nothing to fix them. He is loving and giving and sexy. He is the one I turn to when the world seems big and cold and scary. He lets me sing at the top of my lungs in the car and doesn’t get annoyed by my dorky texts. He indulges my fantasies and my frivolities. He is my best friend and my partner and I often think I don’t deserve him. But, deserving or not, I am grateful that he is a part of my life.

May you all have someone like that in yours. Have a warm and happy Thanksgiving.

holiday tears

Last night, as I lay in a sick, cold-medicine induced haze, tears slipped from my eyes. Holidays looming ahead stir up angst, and once I’m hidden from the world, in the dark, I can’t help but cry.

In the light of day, in the logical moments, I know that things have worked out well. I would not want to be doing the custody thing with kids, so it’s better that it never happened for me and my ex. I honestly don’t want to raise children anymore, I don’t feel I can do it. I’m mostly at peace with the way things turned out, but not totally. When we get to the time of year that revolves around family even more than usual, I feel the sadness set in.

I wonder who I do this for. There are no little smiling faces to look forward to at Christmas, no silly turkey crafts with tiny ones next week. The decorating, memory keeping, baking, caroling, and so on; who do I do it for?

I suppose on some level, I do it for me. Still, with only D here, and his family, it feels silly to do it for me. It really isn’t his thing and I feel melancholy that the stories stop with me. I have no one to share all the ornament histories with, no babies to take to Santa. There isn’t that humming excitement.

Everything seems to revolve around it. From midnight mass to decorating the tree to the holiday stories, and at times throughout November and December, it is just too hard to bear. I don’t have family here, and while I have some acquaintance type friends, I don’t know who I can let it out to.

Sometimes, I just want to sob over it. Get it all out, all the hurt and loss. Mourn the children that never came to be and the pregnancies that went the way of all things. To choke out that I’m a failure as a woman and I was as a mother and that I am responsible for those losses. I want this friend to listen, and hand me kleenex, and remind me that life sucks sometimes and that it isn’t fucking fair. I want them to convince me that I would have been a great mother and that somehow, someday I’ll get through this time of year without sneaking out into the snow to freeze the tears before they fall.


I feel like now is the time to focus on the good, the positive.

Try to remind myself of the things in my life that are good and right. Try to worry less about the things I can’t control, the things that make me crazy.

We’re coming up on Thanksgiving, but I’m not yet ready to be thankful. I’m still just trying to see beyond the frustrations, the petty aggravations and so on.

I need to spend more time enjoying the things I find pleasurable. Use my hours wisely, putting my love and attention in the places they’re best appreciated. With the people who care about me, love me.

coughing fits

I don’t like being sick. It makes me feel weak and sad. It makes me regret taking a job where there’s no one to cover for me; no sick time, paid or otherwise. It makes me feel lazy and tired. I can barely talk, I can’t function normally.

I wonder if I’ll ever get more than behind. When I was laid off, I was grateful to have found a job. Now, 6 months in, all the things I thought I could change aren’t changing. My employer has not embraced all my ideas, for fear that things change more. He’s not comfortable with that. I’m not comfortable stagnating.

I cough until I nearly pass out, and yet I’m still working. My weekends I’m on call, and despite pleas to the contrary, I’m often going in on my days off. My probationary period ended months ago, with no raise or benefits since, though both were promised.

I’m tired. I’m sick. I’m sick and tired of the job. I’m happy to be employed, and don’t want to change jobs again, but this isn’t working any more than the cold meds I took.