November and December are my least favorite months of the year. And here I am right at the point where one ends and the other begins -- well at least it's half over.
I've never been fond of winter, and I believe that has to do with SAD. A girl needs some sunshine in her life. In Illinois, I forced myself to go outside during daylight hours every day -- otherwise I got too depressed. Tennessee seems to be sunnier than Illinois, so that doesn't seem to be as much of a problem for me as it was farther north.
Thanksgiving used to be my favorite day of the year. Now I dread it. Really, I wish there were a way to just skip from Wednesday to Friday, and dispense with Thanksgiving Day altogether.
This transformation in attitude occurred in 2002. That year, I had the worst holiday season ever. It was the year I wanted to kill myself at Thanksgiving, and the year I wanted to go on a homicidal rampage at Christmas.
But the holidays have other associations too. Holidays are family time, and it burns me up that I will NEVER be able to celebrate the holidays with my first family again. Thanks to the negligence and gross incompetence of a couple of cheese weasels who never learned to play fair with themselves or each other, I am made to suffer.
Ten months out of the year, I am okay with my parents' divorce. Hell, sometimes I even think it was a good idea! But it's times like this, times when you're supposed to be together with family, that make you want to shine up the hypothetical hunting rifle.
Because, goddammit, when your parents divorce, it hurts, and it hurts forever. It's something I'm never going to "get over." Forgiveness means giving up all hope of a better past. And I've done that! But it doesn't make things hurt any less.