Nov. 23rd

Not the best day. I went to bed upset with the world-upset with my mother, my family. the boyfriend. Instead of expressing it, I just pushed it down and that made me even angrier with myself. My poor friend Tammy recieved an expletive-filled email from me that ranted about various things. So, not fully recovered yet.

I do feel stronger. I looked at private facility therapy places today. I can't really afford one but I keep thinking maybe it will help. They still take away your freedom and you have to earn privileges. That will scare me so I am not sure I can deal with voluntarily going. I think I need therapy more consistently than I am getting but it is hard over the holidays.

I am developing some bad coping mechanisms and that scares me too. I am taking my medicine but I still feel overwhelmed frequently and  still have the scary anxiety attacks. I don't know a healthy way to handle them so I find ways to distract myself. Sometimes they are not healthy ways.

I bought "The Cognitive Behavioral Workbook for Anxiety" today and it has been beneficial. I am actually doing the exercises in them. I read a paragraph that really struck me. It said:"In the perfectionist state of mind, for example, parasitic anxieties and fears can be stirred by beliefs that other people are evaluating and judging you for mot measuring up to what you assume they think are acceptable standards. This is what pyschologist Charles Horton Cooley described as the looking-glass effect. You imagine what others think about you, you think the worst and you conclude that they think what you think they think."

 Reading it on paper makes it sound self-centered and wretched and miserable and that is exactly what it is. I totally believe everyone thinks, deep down, that I am a failure but they are too nice to say it. I have never lived up to my own standards so how I can I live up to someone elses? For example, today I went to an appointment in Nashville, did some shopping, went to Panera's, read, went to the bank, picked up the kids, cooked dinner and went to WalMart to get a fake Christmas tree. In my mind, I should have also exercised, written and spent less money. Therefore, I am a failure. And everyone that says I am not is lying. My perception has been so altered I don't even know reality anymore.

I think part of what threw off today is one of the sales asssociates at Davis-Kidd remembered me from when I worked there. She asked what I was doing nowdays. Awkward. I explained I was certified in English and History but had recently gone overseas. We talked about Devin. She asked if I was remarried or had any more children. Oh ouch. Two really delicate subjects in one ten minute conversation and I was crying in the Target parking lot fifteen minutes later. After I obsessively begged the boyfriend to tell me he loved me and trusted me. He is going to get tired of doing that. He said I needed concentrate on what I felt and not what other people are feeling. Frankly, I feel like I spend my whole day analyzing my feelings and worried something will trigger my anxiety and my feelings of failure.

Christmas is hard for me. My husband died on 12-27 and I just dread the whole Christmas-happy-joyous family crap everywhere. I dread dealing with my in-laws and negiotating extended family and avoiding bringing up Devin so I don't cause them pain. It is rough on a good year-this year it is just unbearable. I am quite the grinch. I hate the damn coke commericial on the radio. I hate the damn car commericals with cars with bows on top. I hate the Zales and other jewelry commericials. I hate the happy families gathered around the Christmas tree and I hate the entire commericialism of it. I hate the facebook statuses of "I am done with Christmas shopping" like it is a giant haha loser that didn't get done competition. I hate that I am constantly reminded, everywhere I turn, that people are celebrating with their families when mine was destroyed two days after Christmas. We are suppose to go to the Bahamas for Christmas and I hope to God we do. I can make it through with an escape hatch. Otherwise, bleakness this year.

Strangely, though, I have been fascinated with Christmas decorations. Others might want to gay up their house but I totally want to white trash mine. I want the glittering gold ribbon, the loud gold wreath, the black artificial tree and lots of reindeer. I want icicles that change color and lots of bubble lights so someone will look at the house and go into an epilectic seizure from the lights and the colors and the sheer trashiness of it all. I want to set up the reindeer in sexual positions and change them everyday. Kuma Sutra for reindeer lawn ornaments. I want to out Griswold the Griswolds. Cousin Eddy will look at my house and say, "Wow, that girl ain't got no taste." It is my Christmas dream, damn it, and I am trying to tame it down. But, it is tempting.

WalMart is a white trash dream. Artifical trees in every color. Angels in glitter. The ugliest wreaths and ribbon I have ever seen and I could just imagine them hanging from the house. Maybe it is my giant fuck you mass media for forcing me to live with Christmas for over a month so everyone can get into an orgasmic frenzy to buy shit. Fuck you, Black Friday and stupid jewelry commericials. Fuck you, Coke. Quit trying to spread happiness. I am not happy. I don't want to be artificially happy over Christmas and stop pressuring me. I like Pepsi better anyway.

Tomorrow is Zak's birthday. I am excited. He is not. Fourteen. God, we are so old. I look at the photo I have on my mirror of his first Halloween and can't believe he is this big. I also can't believe I almost was not here to celebrate it with him. The day after is the boyfriends. I didn't get him much. No money. But I am excited about it too. He hates his birthday so I kinda like rubbing it in. Plus, birthdays are cool. People celebrate your existence.

I am still trying to avoid Thanksgiving with the extended family. I hope I can. I find it so difficult not to cry and I never know what will set me off. My perfect Thanksgiving is staying home watching Home for the Holidays, Christmas Vacation, and Four Christmases. I might even wait and watch Home Alone with Alex. He might have never seen it. I will eat pizza and watch TV in my jammies. I will not watch TV commericials or do anything to join the world. Read my zombie books and think about taking off my PJ's. Bliss. Bliss. Bliss.

I'll tell you what happens. For some reason, people don't trust me lately.

A Christmas Haiku:

Christmas time is here
Black Friday, flying reindeer
Quit Advertising

Or

Fuck you, Walgreens
Celebrate Thanskgiving
Not Christmas Already

Or

It is not self pity
I would snap out of it if I could
But I can't right now

Or

Fuck, fuckitty, fuck you
I can't deal with my sister
my in-laws or life.

That one was kinda violent but I do love the beginning of "Four Weddings and a Funeral" when Hugh Grant manages to conjugate the word "Fuck." I had no idea there were so many deriatives. I have always wanted to do an English lesson on the word "fuck." It can be a verb, noun, adjective, adverb or interjection. Let's see:

1. I fucked her last night...verb
2. I named my racehorse Fuck you, Lane Kiffin....noun but stretching it
3. He was fucking hot...adjective
4. He fuckingly ran to the bathroom...adverb but doesn't make sense
5. Oh fuck, my hand got caught under a boulder and I had to cut it off....interjection

There we go. I stayed up one night thinking about this lesson and realizing I could never teach it but, in its own twisted way, it's brilliant. If I have used the parts of speech wrong, I apologize. It is not like I teach English or something.