Christmas was a wash. I boasted to everyone that since I made it to the Thanksgiving family gathering, I would go to Christmas, as well. Who wants to go backwards?
Turns out, Christmas is a lot harder for me than I may have thought. Tim had Christmas Eve and Day off, so he was able to shuttle Jake around to the family events. My dog, Gizmo, and I split my bottle of Ativan and just slept the days away. (Okay, he just sniffed the bottle, and watched as I medicated reality away).
I waited to feel bad that I'd let my family down, and what if it were their last Christmas, and all of that. It never really happened. Isolating myself was purely a brain stem decision. I knew people were probably disappointed with me, but I could live with that.
This was my horror to get through any way I can, after all, not theirs.
If there is a time for everything, this was my time to sleep, and chase my girl in my dreams.
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