The Bloody Doors Off

I could barely control myself emotionally, today.

Started out well enough. Woke up around 9am, earplugs having done their thing by blocking the noise upstairs. Managed to get to my brother’s for 2:30 before the rest of the family. That was a surprise; I’m usually the one running behind. So far so good.

Some context about today. My mother and step-father winter in Florida every winter. They leave around the middle of the month, so we have a Christmas exchange before they go.

This is the second year I’ve been so broke I couldn’t even afford to create anything, or buy cards. Gifts? Don’t even go there. And I’m less than 3 weeks out of hospital, so things can be a little dicey on the best of days. When it came to the gifts, I couldn’t open mine. Kevin noticed. I mimed that I was having trouble. I think he and Wayne understood. I know my mom and Larry are aware of what I’m going through, but like my dad, they really can’t talk about it. My mom’s hinted that she’s fought depression in the past, but hasn’t really expanded on that. Something I forgot to tell the hospital for my family history. I guess I blocked it out too.

Anyway. They gifted me with two great shirts I can wear for the winter, and some money (like they do every year). This year I’m gonna have to claim it on my OW (provided I can get OW before the end of the year) and my bankruptcy. So that’s a wee bit depressing. Then we were off to Red Lobster for dinner.

Now, I haven’t been to RL in years, so it was a helluva shock to see how … upscale it is. And how, arriving at 5:30 on a Saturday, we had a 45 minute wait to be seated. Kevin suggested a block-and-a-half walk to McDonald’s for coffee. I needed the break. I was already feeling the weight of the day. It helped a bit, but the noise of the kids in PlayLand didn’t really help much.

After dinner we drove back to Kevin’s, I collected my gifts as well as jam (my mom makes fantastic jam) and some bacon she’d brought. I’m becoming that person you give leftovers too to help them get by. I’d do the same if one of my friends were in the same situation. I just have problems when it comes to me. I feel just so damned guilty.

Kevin says things will turn around and we’ll celebrate in style next year. I hope he’s right.

Was supposed to go to a friend’s birthday party afterwards, but I could tell by the way I was sliding that it was going to be a fight. And realizing I meet with my dramaturge for the first time Sunday afternoon, I decided to re-read the play. Holy gods, my nerves are still so fucking raw. I couldn’t get through it without crying. There were just so many triggers. I’m hoping I can get through the meeting and focus on rewrites.

More than that, I hope tomorrow feels better than today.

I need a good day. Please. I need a good day.