Merry Fuckin' Christmas (Grrrrrr, Spit!)

I survived. We survived. Whatever. It's over and thank God for that.

Christmas has never been my favorite time of the year. Well, at least not since I was a poverty-stricken young single mom. I'm not poverty-stricken anymore, or young or single, either, but I can still take it or leave it. This year I would've preferred to leave it.

The past few months I've been dealing with the worst bout of depression I've experienced in six years. If you've noticed that my natural wit and charm have been missing from this blog lately, it's because they're buried beneath the ton of lead that's parked in my chest.

I know why I'm depressed. I just can't get the reasons why I'm depressed fixed so I can be happy again, and I'm really pissed off about that.

So I had a miserable Christmas and I pretty much made sure everybody else did, too. I'm not proud of my behavior, but during my worst hissy fits I was detached from my body, watching from the sidelines, and just as shocked and horrified as everybody else.

A big part of my depression is the Bob/Brittany thing. It's an awkward situation and no matter how it ends up, whether Britt stays here with me or goes to live with her dad, somebody is going to hurt. I just don't want Britt to be hurt, no matter what happens.

Another big part is that I haven't had a car since, um, June, maybe? I don't remember. Too damn long is all I know. Bridget's car broke down and she borrowed mine so I've been waiting all this time for either:

• Bridget to get enough money together to get her car fixed,
• Bob to come here and fix Bridget's car, or
• Mikey to get Bridget's car fixed somewhere, anywhere, I don't care where
  

so I can have my car back.

Y'all know I'm a dedicated homebody and when I do have my car, I haven't been known to go anywhere very often. But that was my choice. Now I don't have any choice, and I feel like a prisoner in my own home.

I used to avidly study schedules for kid's activities all over the metro area, waiting for Britt to be old enough to go out and do things with. Now that she's old enough, we can't do anything. No story time at the library, no Gymboree, no dance lessons or music lessons or art lessons. No Crossroads Kids Club once a month.

Instead, we're stuck here at the house every single day, with the same old books and toys and videos and TV shows and she's bored and I'm bored and I feel like our time together is coming to an end and this is not how I wanted our time together to be.

And then suddenly Christmas came bearing down on me like a runaway freight train and I couldn't get any shopping done because I don't have a fucking car and it's Mikey's busiest time of the year and he couldn't get off work in time for me to use his car to go out and get anything done before everything closed for the night and then suddenly it was the week before Christmas.

Mikey and I both were totally dog sick for three days this past week and could barely stand upright (Britt had a runny nose and cough for like one day) and then on Thursday, or maybe Friday (I can't remember; I never know what day it is), Bridgie let me borrow my own car and babysat Britt so I could finally go get some shopping done. But I didn't get it all done, because there was too much to do and I still felt sick and weak.

I knew Bob was coming in for the weekend but I never heard from him and, like I said, I never know what day it is, so when he and his girlfriend showed up at my door completely unannounced, I went completely apeshit. I was not ready, I had no warning, I needed more time and, by the way, it's so rude not to call first! Even Sherri knows to call first before she comes over!

Anyway, I don't remember what I said or did, except that I burst into tears and ran to the garage to hide out. And I cried most of the weekend. And I wasn't very nice to anybody. I felt used up, exhausted and sick. And bleak. I never did finish my shopping. I simply declared that I was done and left Mikey to do what he could to make sure everybody was taken care of and that was that.

So I'm sorry, Bob (and Mary) and Bridgie and Mikey, that I was such a bitch and that it wasn't a happy and peaceful Christmas. If I had it to do over again... Well, if I had to do it over again I'd just shoot myself and be done with it. But I wish it had been different.

Gawd, I hate Christmas.

New Year's Eve can't come soon enough, though, 'cuz Mommy's ready to go on a bender.