"There is never enough time to do or say all the things that we would wish. The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have. Remember Scrooge, time is short, and suddenly, you're not here any more. "
- The Ghost Of Christmas Present

So, in an effort to prove I'm not 100% a Scrooge this year, as some emails accused...I decided to do something a little different this year.

I'm currently without a lot at this point in time. I essentially have clothes and pictures. Some of my stuff is in storage and all my really important belongings, again, are three or four oceans away and I will not be able to spend the damn holidays with the people I want to spend them with.
I sold the car months ago and the house is officially gone. Note, that I didn't say I sold that too.
Gotta love our economy and the asshats that created it.

Anyhoo...my point is...that I basically have nothing to give anyone this year. I also have little to no funds to assist in my giving anyone anything. I wasn't even going to do Christmas cards this year. And I'm still not, but I am going to blow $8 bucks on one book of stamps.

Don't get me wrong, I got some very nice emails about my previous post as well and quite frankly, the ones that weren't so nice...well...as per my usual bitch attitude...I don't give a rats ass about those ones or what the people that wrote them think about me. The nice ones got me to thinking a little bit though.

So, this year...since I have nothing tangible to give, in the spirit of giving (which is what I like best about the holiday season and why I'm in such a bitchy mood about it)...I'm going to give the only thing I have left to give...good memories.

I'm going to type out little, letters of my favorite individual memories of a select few, tailor made to each person and send them off. I hope, at the very least, that it makes a couple of people smile and laugh.

Not that this is gonna be a great gift to send off because thanks to all the meds, my memory really sucks these days...and the typing...well, as I've said before, the days of a 120+ wpm's are long gone. Hence, I began the chicken pecking yesterday in the hopes that I can actually get them out in a timely manner. And I readily admit, it was nice remembering said events with different people and did indeed bring a smile to my face while typing them.

All that being said, don't be fooled...I'm still pissed, hurt and tired. With the exception of the letters, I still will not bake, celebrate or be merry in any way, shape or form. And even though I hope that my letters bring joy to others...the tired bitch in me, still doesn't want to hear about it.

I may have taken a little "detour" but I'm still going to hell in a handbasket and I still can't get there fast enough.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Shitmas."

As you may have noticed, I haven't posted the way I used to post. This would be because I just don't feel the same way I used to feel. Well, perhaps that's not the whole truth. I've felt the way I feel now... for awhile now. I'm just really good at hiding it from other people. Keep people busy with witty words and funny stories or serious words about serious causes and they don't think that there's anything wrong, let alone ask...but truth be told, I'm tired. I'm exhausted.

My xmas tree is in a friend's garage, most of my ornaments went to good will last April, the important ornaments I kept are three or four oceans away, I won't be able to be with my daughter, nor will I be able to spend the holidays with R and the boys.

Hence, there will be no shopping. No decorating. No baking. No celebrating Winter Solstice. Nothing. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want to do anything. And while the frustrated, tired bitch in me sincerely hopes that everyone else is already having a wonderful holiday season...I just don't want to see anyone else shopping, decorating, baking or celebrating either. The commercials are enough to make me want to slit my wrists every other three minutes as it is.

The last scans I had were almost a year ago...and I don't care. Even if I had money and/or health insurance right now...I wouldn't go to the doctor. In fact, I will go as far to say that even if someone paid the bill and me...I still wouldn't go. I don't want to know anything, anymore. I.Don't.Care.Anymore. I wish, like hell, that I would have found the lump and not done a thing about it. Yep. I really just wrote that. And if ya think that's bad...stop reading and hit the X in the top right corner, 'cause I'm apparently on my way to hell in a handbasket.

Daisy is grown. She's a responsible, contributing member of society. She's fun and fair minded.My job is done.

I've got two other little boys, granted, that aren't mine, but it sure sucks to be missing out on life with them, when we only just barely got started.

And I've got a wonderful, incredible man that I love and that loves me.

I have no doubt whatsoever, about our love for one another.What I doubt, is that life will ever work out and allow us to actually be together again.

I'm sad. I'm beyond pissed. I'm hurt. I'm bitter. And did I mention that I'm tired? And all I want right now, the only thing I really want, is to go to sleep and not wake up. Ever. I do not want to be here anymore. I do not want to do this anymore. I do not want to live this way anymore...and more importantly, I don't want the people I love to have to keep living the way they're living because of me anymore. It breaks my heart, that it breaks their heart, when they feel like they can't help me in some way...when they've already done so very, very much.

And each morning I wake up. Disappointed. Again. I don't feel like I'm living. I feel like all I'm doing is existing...waking up every day and breathing.

Meanwhile...A happily married, mother of three lost her battle with cancer yesterday. Fifteen days before xmas...a happily married, mother of three lost her battle with cancer yesterday. WTF? Why did this woman have to lose her battle? It's bullshit.

Now before anyone gets their panties (sorry Beej) in a twist...I'm okay. I know typing what I typed, doesn't sound like I'm okay, but I am. I'm an adult. A level-headed, responsible, sane adult. I have no intention of hurting myself or taking my life in any form or fashion. I would never...ever...do that to my daughter or the other people that care about me. Got it? I hope so.

I'm okay. I'm not looking for sympathy or anything else. In fact, I'm going to close the comments after I'm done with this because I'm not here looking for comments. And I sure as hell don't want to hear anything about someone else's g-ds plan for me. I'm thrilled that you have your g-d and that you believe everything you believe and that all of that makes you feel better, safer, whatever...and you're my family and I love you...but I do not want to hear anything that remotely has to do with your g-d and I, in relations to one another. I typed what I typed to get it all out of my head. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And don't sit there and think that I don't know I'm a heel. The three kids are healthy. R is healthy. The rest of my family and friends are all healthy.
I know that I'm lucky. I know that I should be way more thankful than I obviously am. I know that there are millions of people that are far, far worse off than I am right now.

I know. I suck.

Like I said... I'm going to hell in a handbasket. I just can't seem to get there fast enough.