Yesterday I checked my mailbox. Something I do not do often as all my bills are taken care of online, and I receive very little in snail mail that is substantial.
I received a Christmas card from my hoarding mother, one full of schmaltz and nostalgia for me as a child under the tree, yadda-yadda-yadda.
In the past couple of years she has resumed signing cards 'Mom' instead of her first name, something she did for nearly 30 years as some sort of punishment for setting boundaries as developmentally appropriate as a pre-teen. The lovey-dovey and overly sentimental cards are a relatively recent development too.
And they make me sad. And a bit angry.
If I felt that I existed as anything other than an extension of her, or at best, an extra in her drama that she plays the main character and protagonist, maybe I would have a different reaction.
Maybe it is just because I am so stinking worn out from 75-85 hour work weeks between the day job and consulting, and I am a bit concerned something might be happening health wise. I have appointments with my doctors so no worries there. My running game is improving, and my race last weekend was a personal record, so I think it is just stress and lack of sleep.
I maybe have erred in not taking the next two weeks off as I usually do, but honestly, I just am not in the 'staycation' mood and I want the holidays to hurry up and get past. I am in a bit of a funk, but thank goodness for my cats, a job I love, and my wonderful friends and supportive people.
This too shall pass... And still I rise...
Have a great holiday everyone, if you celebrate any kind of holiday tradition.
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