I can see why people hate the holidays. So many people hate the holidays that, at the moment, I can't think of anyone who really loves the holidays. I say "holidays" instead of Christmas since Thanksgiving and New Years are included. Most likely, major holidays for every nationality, race and religion can be included since the trouble centers around being alone and feeling unloved. If feeling alone and unloved is the issue, then we would also have to include Valentine's Day, for sure, and other marketing opportunities.
Certainly, stating tomorrow, I'll be with my family in Texas long enough to feel overwhelmed, misunderstood and, perhaps, even suicidal. Family has a way of bringing out the suicidal tendencies in many of us. In some ways, being surrounded by family and/or friends but feeling Isolated and Separate is kind of worse than feeling Alone and Unloved. Either way, though, it sucks.
Physical pain seems to heighten the experience. I hate to complain, especially since in the land of pain, my shoulder situation is nothing. Bust even still, being alone and in pain has a way of kicking your emotional state up a notch. My hormones do that too - but this morning I was forced to admit that the reason I was teary yesterday had more to do with Buzz Kill's birthday than my period. Staying home alone while everyone else is out boozing it up in the nicest restaurant in the neighborhood is a drag.
Velvet called at 11:00 last night to say he was staying over at his dad's, which is totally fine and I'm glad he called. But as I rattled around this big, empty apartment this morning, my shoulder stiff and kind of on fire with bones so deteriorated that I'm sometimes afraid they will crack right the fuck in two so that the only thing holding my arm to my body is the skin
I see why people hate the holidays.
Velvet 's staying over there again tonight since Buzz Kill, Vagina Dentata and Velvet are all going to a lovely Christmas Eve cocktail party that a family friend has had on Christmas Eve for years and years. As lovely as the party is, in many ways it's torture for all concerned. I'm not sorry that I'm not invited. And I'm not sorry I divorced Buzz Kill, especially since the bankruptcy and sundry issues with the IRS proved I was right to take steps to protect the property. Nevertheless, it's hard when Velvet is at events that I normally would have attended - like this party and Buzz Kill's Birthday Dinner - and I know that even though the guests are all people who used to consider me a friend won't even mention my name. Bringing me up makes people feel awkward, especially since Buzz Kill will probably have his new girlfriend in tow.
So as far as they're all concerned, I've disappeared. Almost as if I were never there at all.
I'm happy to say that my shoulder feels less stiff in the afternoons and evenings, especially when I spend the day resting as I have lately. Maybe it's been so creaky the last couple of days because I've realigned since the surgery and all the gravel in the joint has finally worn itself into sand. Who knows? Maybe that one little dose of the chemo derivative is already working a miracle. The good news is that I'm not afraid it's going to crack in two at the moment. When it comes to my emotional state, however, as I'm ratting around this big, empty apartment alone except for the ghosts of Christmas parties past - I feel like I was broken in two by the divorce and all the heartache that led up to it.
I'm just sorry that Velvet has seen me crying over this - bitter, resentful tears because my husband chose to nurture his dysfunction instead of our marriage which essentially meant he chose to be with his mother instead of his wife. On some twisted level, it just feels like the fundamental balance of The Force would have been disturbed is Buzz Kill hadn't moved back in with Vagina Dentata. He's always taken care of her, even before his father died from Lou Gehrig's Disease. He passed when Buzz Kill was 15. As it happened, Velvet was 15 when Buzz Kill finally moved out, leaving Velvet alone with me just as he had been left alone with Vagina Dentata, giving a sense of symmetry to family dysfunction.
Let us all pause a moment and be grateful that I am not Vagina Dentata, although I can see some similarities. And Buzz Kill, despite everything, has been a good provider for Velvet - I just had to get the law involved to protect the property and to make sure a portion of the cash was secured for Velvet's needs against the claims of creditors during the bankruptcy. I am particularly grateful that Buzz Kill's sister might be a robber baron, but she did give Buzz Kill the money to pay the alimony and child support on time in the months leading up to bankruptcy court. So life for Velvet turned out better than life for Buzz Kill, so far anyway - even if there are similarities in their experience.
Vagina Dentata did all right by her kids, though. Her relatives helped them financially while Vagina Dentata developed a career on the soap operas which was a natural step for someone who had been a chanteuse in the Poconos. Today Velvet said that at Buzz Kill's birthday party, he grandmother was, "Shit faced and feeble."
I have faith that Velvet gets the picture about his father, his grandmother and me. And it's a good thing that Velvet is there to support his father now that Vagina Dentata is starting to fade more dramatically by the day. I can't say I'm sorry to miss this time of life with Buzz Kill - so maybe I should stop feeling resentful about being alone and start thanking my lucky stars that I'm not facing the prospect of wiping the ass of Vagina Dentata.
In fact, I'm so glad I'll never, ever have to wipe that bitch's ass that I declare it Thing of Beauty #43-101.
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