I should be happy and relieved, and I am. I am grateful the scan is good and that I shall likely live many more years. I truly am.
Meanwhile icy rain is pelting down through the dim grayness of the outdoors. A freezing East wind whistles through my coat when I go outside. So I think I’ll stay in the warmth, here alone in my apartment.
I always feel teary and whiny at Christmas, and this year is no exception. Though last year was better than most, because I found out about the kid and did things for her. I’m not that sentimental myself, but the kid parts long for presents and Christmas decorations, cookies, people, and carols. Personally I can do without. I like to admire the Christmas lights though. And I’d go to the Messiah if someone else wanted to come. But the other things, I can do without.
Not so the kid. The kid wants the whole thing. Mostly I didn’t know about this. All I knew is that every Christmas I’d feel depressed and weepy. It was a huge surprise to me that I cheered up last year when I bought kid type presents and put up some decorations. It’s hard to explain how that works. I personally feel no pull towards cute stuffed animals. However I can buy one for the kid, and when she gets it, she’ll be happy, making me also feel happy. That is the oddness of dissociation.
Today I bought chocolate truffles for gifts from a fancy chocolate place. That will pretty well take care of presents for me, except for one gift for the ex and a big coat for my son. Hope everyone likes their presents. Everything I buy, I would also like, and that’s the best I can do at the moment.
I think at Christmas I long for a real family – not an ex-husband, but a husband or friend who wants to be around me all day long, for whom I wouldn’t be a burden, who would feel happy because I was there. I long for that so much.
This year I may skip the FOO big Christmas meal on the 24th. It always makes me feel sad and unloved. I am going to a family birthday on Saturday – that should be enough. I think this will be a good step in taking care of myself – not going to something I know makes me sad. I will go to a friend’s house instead.
I have been reading a collection of Christmas stories for children. Some of them really touch me. There is a very old story for instance about a French saint who rings a bell to help guide boats on the river Seine in the fog. He grows old, he runs out of fire wood, but keeps ringing his bell to warn ships. Then on a cold Christmas Eve he is overcome with weakness and falls asleep on the cold ground. The heavenly Christ child visits him that night, casting a wonderful glow over his island….and a woodcutter from the shore who came to check on him witnesses this miracle. And the saint wakes up, and lives to keep praying and ringing his bell…
I loved the simplicity of this story, and the goodness in it. And the kid loved the idea of a magical child coming to help. So I’m maybe sentimental after all.