I left the house today. In pajama pants. Which according to my favorite stand up comic, Christ Titus, means I should voluntarily climb into a wood chipper. I guess wearing pajama pants in public is frowned upon? Physical discomfort dictated I wear nothing more snug than baggy jammy pants and frankly, to skip the family shindig tomorrow…bring on the wood chipper. I just know with that little space and all those people packed in there, me all hopped on on hormonal mood surges and cramps…It’s gonna blow herds of goats.

I would really love to view Thanksgiving in a positive light, but ya know, it’s just always been my least favorite holiday, even as a kid. Stupid parades. Too much food. Too many people. Idiotic ball games. BOOOOORING. As an adult forced to participate same as I was forced as a child “for the family” “because it’s normal” I find my resentment has grown immensely. Then I feel bitchy cos at least I have a family who cares enough to cook and gather round and blah fucking blah. My mom and sis make it such a big deal, always with too much food, spending so much they’ll starve for the next week, then griping about the exhaustion of cooking and…Ugh, new tradition, please, for fuck’s sake. How about um…I do love my mom’s homemade dressing but beyond that..I think I’d be just as happy with a salisbury steak tv dinner. I prefer calm and lame to noisy, upsetting and tasty. Since age 10, Thanksgiving, for me, has always been about how to suffer as long as socially required to count as polite, then escape with my sanity in tact and my brain not in a comatose state.

Sorry if it’s your holiday, that’s cool and all. Just not for me. Aside from Halloween I find all holidays pretty dissatisfying. I’d love to say that’s the depression but really…once my family broke apart at Thanksgiving that one year…No more. Fuck it all. I have two factions of family, always at odds, and I am sick of being in the middle at age 42 on holidays. Sick of mom bashing dad, dad bashing mom, them bashing me. I just wanna yell WE ARE ALL ASSHOLES AND WE SUCK, CAN WE JUST GET OUR DOGGY BAGS AND LEAVE NOW THAT WE’VE FULFILLED THE DUTY OF APPEARING?

I have tried so very hard not to view it that way. But even when it was with my first husband’s family rather than mine…it still sucked. It’s that “outside the bubble” thing. If I excelled at small talk and being socially comfortable, I’d be a barfly.

Yes, I have my grump on this week, I am a bad bad woman all full of venom and darkness and why, it’s probably even my own fault I have depression cos I just deserve it for being so undamnedgrateful for Thanksgiving and having a family.


My mood hid pitch black earlier. No trigger. It just went there. And I’ve spent hours trying to climb out of that abyss, determined to plaster on that fake face for my kid cos I don’t want to taint the holidays for her even if no one gave a fuck about tainting them for me. Of course, it won’t matter how hard I try to be a good mom. My mother will inevitably find a way to criticize my parenting. Oh and now dad and his crew say they may not come til the evening, which means I will get to hear about how there’s all that food and how dare they be so rude as to have other plans and…

I think I am within my rights to feel some dread here. My family is a damned broken record.

And I guess I am, too, but I don’t utter a word I don’t feel deep down in my bones. I am genuine. Genuinely fucked up. Busted, bent, broken.

Repair is possible. Failure is inevitable. I accept this fact. Don’t like it. Fight it tooth and nail. It is what it is.

So I am gonna skip the shower and curl up in fort blankie and kick my own ass for being in too much pain to stop and buy more painkiller today. Huh? Yeah, right?

I would be so much more thankful if my family were the kind that served wine and such with meals. It makes everyone so much more tolerable, including me.

Happy Fangsgiving from Venom-Miss.



12 Responses to “Venom-Miss”

  1. You can always find a way to drug the Turkey so everyone chills out… Never hurt to try!

  2. My family is big and loud and very big on taking every holiday from every country as an excuse to throw a party and drink. BUT there was a small faction of my family, a cousin… who threw a very tame, traditional dinner. No real big expectations or noise. Just people talking about dumb shit, or not talking but eating, and then dinner, a prayer and chatting about more useless shit over dessert, then go home with all the leftovers. That was okay. As a kid. Because it was the only day I was allowed to go crazy with dessert. That’s it. Brace yourself though, we still go Christmas.

  3. SA doesn’t do thanksgiving and even if it did, I wouldn’t. Pass the venom over this way πŸ˜€

  4. I spent yesterday by myself. I didn’t mind. (Nikki & Jayden went her friends, my Mom & sis didn’t do TG this year) Ginsu away my dear!

  5. Mrs M gets all embarrassed when I want to mow the grass barefoot in my pajamas, or shovel snow in my sweats and boots. FFS I don’t want to go outside at all, she should be happy that I want to go do something outside to keep up appearances. I have yet to go to the store, or go to work, in pajamas, but there are days when I would love to, if I have to go, at least go comfortably. So wear them for both of us. If I saw you I would smile and wave, and then you’d think I’m some creepy guy… nevermind, I’ll just stay home. Let me just Netflix Binge, drink something warm or warming, and then write.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: