It most certainly takes prisoners.
It most certainly takes souls.
But I will just settle in with it as I do everyday.
Easter. Not really a favorite holiday of mine. Actually, no holiday is favorable for me any longer.
They’re commercial, religious, costly, stressful and often, for me, more bitter than sweet.
I become depressed. I’ve only recently noticed in the last two years. I’ve shied away from family functions I’ve looked forward to all year. I will even back out last minute. I don’t feel liked, loved, wanted. I’ve been at family functions and have overheard my own family members speaking ill of me. Why would I look forward to these? I have to travel. I’d prefer hosting these things. “But I’m so far away.” Minded I’m single with 2 kids and 2 dogs. People rarely visit me.
But I’m anxiety ridden when they are here. Maybe they sense this and find it uncomfortable. Hell, I do and it lives inside of me.
Holidays hurt for a multitude of reasons. I miss lost family members and the memories of them on holidays. I’m reminded of how far away and emotionally distant I am from those I once was drawn to. I feel bad for the boys when I make an excuse to not attend a get-together. I’m hurting them. But the anxiety cripples me. It’s like another personality and it beats the happy me into submission until I’m sullen, sad and defunct. It’s miserable and it’s my own fucking hell that I’ve been blessed with.
What saddens me most at holidays is the “could have beens”, “would have beens”. I wanted a husband. A close extended family. We’d live nearby. Our children with stay with their grandparents on weekends. They’d attend parties with cousins. Holidays would have been huge, elaborate love fests (not orgys, nasties). So much love and hugs and family recipes and happiness!
But I feel I failed at all of it. I moved away from my family. I divorced my first husband. I married another man in a manic phase. I came out of the fog realizing what I had done. Hellbent to stick with it and not upset God or family again, I begged to start a family. Something I thought I could control, would change everything and cure all ails. I thought I’d be happy. No. Instead I’m raising children to be miserable like me. I guess the one good thing is they haven’t seen the other side of things so they don’t know they have it so bad yet.
The worst part is knowing some man, the love of my life, some I passed on, someone I gave up on, someone who gave up on me, someone I was infatuated with but they were not and they have no idea how I still think of the “what if’s”, “had I”, “you fuck up everything”. I picture this man with his children in his lap, smiling. Loving wife he kisses goodnight every night to. Next to him the woman who feels his touch and gets to make love you him for the rest of their lives. He’d die for all of them. But he’s not even thinking of me. I missed out. He’s at the in-laws and oh how they adore him! They’re so proud of their daughter for marrying him! Look at the beautiful grandchildren they have because of them!
They share a bed every night. They speak everyday. No one thinks of me.
My god loneliness and regret hurt. And they’re all emotions: anxiety, loneliness, regret. Yet they physically hurt. All my pain is internal. Everything looked so simple once upon a time.
I’ll go to bed alone tonight. After playing the Easter Bunny. I’ll carry on throughout the day, this time actually attending a family function, but I’m thinking of a life I had always wanted but never got. The life I fucked up. Never to be with the man I never knew, could have stayed with, who left me because of my emotional pain and hurtfulness, didn’t want me. Pine for. Long for. Ache for. Hate for.
Overthinking is the harshest of prisons ever imagined. And that’s just it. It’s all imagined.
Here’s to another Saturday gone. Spent dateless, friendless and ending, yet again, in tears.