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I am so tired.
Nov. 22nd, 2017 06:39 pmI've reached the end of November and my American sensibilities seem to think there should be a break here. Thanksgiving is a colonialist lie, and it was always a dreary day for me personally even before it became the worst day I'd ever had in 2005 and a tough day, of varying degrees and varying kinds, ever since.
But this year what I want isn't any of that, of course. I just want a lot of sleep and nice food. Hearing about the recipes and menus of friends in the U.S. is making me wistful and homesick. Imagining a long weekend of guilt-free sleep is the biggest luxury right now.
As it is, I have to get through anither month before the semester is over.
I thought I'd written about this before, but if I have I can't find it now: today I got the traditional card from my aunt. She sends cards for holidays that barely exist, or that you wouldn't know there were cards for if you didn't have old ladies in your life: st. Patrick's Day, Easter, Halloween. Crazy stuff.
But also, Thanksgiving. She's sent a card every year since I moved here.
So, every year she wishes me a happy day on the anniversary of when my brother died. A happy day for a holiday that doesn't even exist here, that's just a normal day to everyone around me.
I've burst into tears sometimes on seeing them. I've torn them into pieces in rage and heartbreak. I can't tell her not to send them or even ask her what the ever-living fuck she's thinking sending me such a card (even if I managed to do so without swearing) because she wouldn't understand and she'd take it out on my mom if I was rude to her or if she even thought I was being rude to her. I just grit my teeth and throw the cards away, unopened. Andrew used to try to get to the post before I did at this time of year, to keep me even from seeing them. But I knew about them regardless, and anyway I think my bursting into tears days are over. It's just another part of the hellish tapestry that is November, now.
Yhis year's arrived today. Happy anniversary of the worst day of your life, Holly!
But this year what I want isn't any of that, of course. I just want a lot of sleep and nice food. Hearing about the recipes and menus of friends in the U.S. is making me wistful and homesick. Imagining a long weekend of guilt-free sleep is the biggest luxury right now.
As it is, I have to get through anither month before the semester is over.
I thought I'd written about this before, but if I have I can't find it now: today I got the traditional card from my aunt. She sends cards for holidays that barely exist, or that you wouldn't know there were cards for if you didn't have old ladies in your life: st. Patrick's Day, Easter, Halloween. Crazy stuff.
But also, Thanksgiving. She's sent a card every year since I moved here.
So, every year she wishes me a happy day on the anniversary of when my brother died. A happy day for a holiday that doesn't even exist here, that's just a normal day to everyone around me.
I've burst into tears sometimes on seeing them. I've torn them into pieces in rage and heartbreak. I can't tell her not to send them or even ask her what the ever-living fuck she's thinking sending me such a card (even if I managed to do so without swearing) because she wouldn't understand and she'd take it out on my mom if I was rude to her or if she even thought I was being rude to her. I just grit my teeth and throw the cards away, unopened. Andrew used to try to get to the post before I did at this time of year, to keep me even from seeing them. But I knew about them regardless, and anyway I think my bursting into tears days are over. It's just another part of the hellish tapestry that is November, now.
Yhis year's arrived today. Happy anniversary of the worst day of your life, Holly!