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I’m writing by the fire at one of the prettiest places I’ve been in some time. The weather is exactly what I want, my kids are nearby playing board games, and other guests are playing board games and keeping up pleasant banter. This should be the happiest pre-thanksgiving available. Instead I’m completely overwraught and worn down–more likely to collapse into a coma than crack a smile. I cannot explain this in any completely rationale way but to say that what should be happiness has me anxious to end the day and the next one after that.

At some point I came to dread the holidays. They serve as an ever present reminder of how the most important things in my life are not entirely there or entirely right. This is evidenced by the fact that I will be spending christmas and the two days following it completely alone. I could fall off of the planet in this space of time and nobody would notice, because everyone else has someone else to spend the time with.

Sounds depressed and frankly a bit jealous of the rest of the world. Honestly not my proudest or brightest moment. Still, when I made the choice to be raw and honest here it wasn’t only going to be about the good stuff. The bad stuff has resonance too.