Posts Tagged ‘thanksgiving’

Dark Days Ahead

Posted: 19 November, 2017 in Depression, Family, Sadness
Tags: ,

This week begins my annual decent into darkness. It generally starts around Thanksgiving and stays until after Valentine’s Day. So if I don’t post as often as I would like, that’s why.

Thanksgiving, because I’m reminded that I’m alone. My children and grandchildren are on the opposite side of the country, and while my wife and I are still married, that’s just a technicality. Her family has severed all contact with me.

December brings with it my mother’s birthday, followed a few days later by the anniversary of her death. Then comes thee gloom of Christmas spent alone, followed by New Year’s Eve spent the same way. January is usually pretty much of a blank, followed by February and the second anniversary of my father’s death.

All of which would be bearable were it not for my

  • General Anxiety Disorder
  • Social Anxiety Disorder
  • Seasonally Affective Disorder
  • Chronic Depression
  • Gender Dysphoria

Yeah, I’m a mess. But as the song says,

I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down

I still have my tea and my books. Oh, yes: and my blogs. They’re really my on-line journals, which I write in to keep my sanity.

I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down

Love and hope,

Robyn Jane

And if I weren’t an atheist, I’d say “Thank God!” But I am, and so I can’t. Besides, even if I did believe in a god, which one should I thank? Janus, after whom January is named? Hell, what calendar should I even use? It’s January only on the Gregorian calendar, but a quick googling (is that even a word?) of “January” reveals that there are over 10 other solar calendars currently in use around the world, plus a handful of lunar calendars as well.

It’s easier to explain why I’m glad the period between Thanksgiving and the new year is over. First, I spend Thanksgivings alone, thanks to being ostracized by both my own family and my in-laws. December marks my mother’s birthday and less than two weeks later, the anniversary of her death. This year it was especially difficult because it marks the first time she has been out of my life longer than she was in it. Finally, Christmas carries with it the same curse as Thanksgiving.

Except for this year’s anniversary, my mother’s death has become easier to bear with each passing year. Maybe easier isn’t the right word—maybe I should just say not as difficult. I don’t really think that any loved one’s death truly becomes easier to bear; maybe the scar fades a bit more, or the scab isn’t quite so thick. I still cry every December 12, just not as hard as I used to.

But here’s the important thing: Thanksgiving and Christmas no longer find me wishing I were dead, planning my suicide, or even checking myself into the psychiatric emergency department.

So that’s an improvement.