I'm not actually that fond of the holidays. My daughters are grown. There is no mystery for them. They have wish lists on Amazon. Everything they want is fairly expensive. If you cringe at spending $40.00 0n a toy, wait until you spend $50.00 0n a hoodie.
I've switched from xanax to valium by the way and it's no wonder. Valium, wonder drug of the 60's for those tired and overly stressed housewives trying desperately to find their use in a world that said they must look beautiful, meet their man at the door, cook with pearls on, have dinner ready at the same time every evening and make sure their little darlings are polite, presentable and perfect in the communities the family abides in. Forget sex, let's just recite the 50 states and all presidents, procreate and make sure the carpet is vacuumed every day with no lines.
For some reason, after the 60's and 70's were over, Valium went the way of the dinosaurs. Frozen in time, as something that existed in the past, sculpted our landscape but ultimately died out due to changing habitat.
I'm here to tell you, it's back. I have clinical depression, generalized anxiety along with panic attacks. They are three different things, in case you wondered. No, it isn't menopause. I've struggled with all three conditions most of my life and as far as I know, I've only been in menopause for a few years. Plus, I'm not sure you can procreate during menopause. If you can, and yes I do teach biology but that's beside the point, Beerhound will meet his maker sooner than expected.
Menopause certainly doesn't help but these conditions are also part of my genetic make-up. And before you offer me advice, I'm an expert on bio-feedback and cognitive behavior modification. I have a therapist. I adore her. I do what ever she tells me to do and I'm faithful at keeping a journal of thanks, accomplishments, general thoughts and discussions. It this were not true, at this moment in time, I would be a basket case. I'm sitting on my couch, typing away. On one side, I have a 75 pound pit bull pony, snoring and relieving his bowels of all gas trapped there over the last week. On the other side, I have Lexie, who is also a pit bull mix but only around 60 pounds also snoring but no gas, thank god. And Beau, Beau, oh sweet Beau, a Bichon/Yorkie mix (bred that way) who should weigh around 15- 20 pounds but actually is about 40. He's fat, a fatty, fat-fat. He can't get on my bed without jumping up and down at least 10 times to get the needed air to make a mad grasp for the bed covers. Sometimes, he makes it. Sometimes, he doesn't. It's always a toss-up. And no, we don't help him. We're evil that way. We figure, at least he's burning calories.
Which, in some convoluted way of thinking, brings me back to my original topic.
I knew the holidays weren't going to be mind-blowing, memory making, turkey roasting, horn blowing, confetti throwing days of bliss and laughter. Personally, I prefer those quiet moments during the year when you realize you're alive, the world is continuing just as it should, someone makes you laugh or you just finished a very good book. The holidays aren't the same with all our family gone and my sister-in-law so far away. The girls have their own lives and were gone a great deal of time during our "Christmas" season.
***NOTE: I started writing this post a couple of days ago and I have no idea what point I was attempting to make. But I will soldier on, just don't expect it to make any sense.***
I suppose this diatribe was meant to convey my thankfulness that the holidays are over. My house is back to normal. All the decorations are down, boxed and in the attic. Record time for this family. We managed to escape the destruction of any valuable keepsake by Rue, although he did eat my whole box of Good and Plenty that was in my stocking and Beerhound lost my box of See's candy. We haven't found it yet. The only present that I asked for still hasn't arrived. The cats decided they are done climbing Christmas trees so not a single ornament was broken. And my doctor prescribed Valium in place of my Xanax. What a lovely drug. Simply lovely.
I'm ready to tackle the new year, whatever that entails. I'll turn 50 this year and I'm looking forward to my friends throwing me a big party. They don't know this yet but they will. Life is good.
Of course, ask me at the end of this week, I might have a different take on the world but then again I will probably have invented a Valium smoothie instead of a Xanax smoothie so I'm thinking, I'll have something happy and funny to write about. Valium, what a lovely drug. Simply lovely.
