I've been dealing with a lot of depression. I think it's safe to say I need another trip to the doc to check on my meds & see which one of them is making me feel like this (and if it's likely to get better over time or if I should quit taking one/all of them)And of course, my mother is ... her. I want to call her a cunt or a bitch or detail all the ways in which she failed me - how she neglected me, never protected me, allowed me to be abused for years, for convenience, how she made me feel guilty for being born & inconveniencing her with the burden of my life.
But part of me wishes I was at her house right now, drinking mimosas and eating bagels, opening Christmas gifts with my huge, loud, smiling family (who celebrate on the 24th and not the 25th.)
Happy holidays, right? Bah humbug.
