Feeling Blue

I spoke with a number of my friends this week and for some reason, I’m feeling blue. I am not sleeping so well at night any more.

I often feel like a fish out of water lately, maybe it’s because I haven’t set down my roots, but maybe it’s because I’m just not enjoying this season.

So here I am this morning writing this post and not feeling anything but blue. I wonder why it is that when the holiday season comes around, I begin to feel blue.

I suppose that it relates to my remembrance of childhood Christmases and the fun we had as a family getting the tree, decorating it and the fun I had at the holidays.

I can remember the “Texaco fire truck” memory at Christmas and how much fun that was, and I can remember the psychodrama done on that happy moment in time.

I can remember the energy of the times in the past, but I can only remember 1 Christmas with the soon to be ex whose name must never again be spoken in public, where there was a tree.

I guess the soon to be ex whose name must never again be spoken in public didn’t believe in Christmas or didn’t want her dogs peeing on the tree, but most of all, no celebration of Christmas was ever done.

I remember feeling horribly lonely, even in the prison of marriage, because there was no love, no children and no enjoyment. It must have been very painful for her growing up, and judging on what I witnessed, suing her father, mother’s estate, her sister and others,, no wonder there never was any love shown in her.

I suppose that her new boyfriend will get the same treatment and I am happy that I witnessed his divorce in court the other day, so that the only thing that stands between her eternal bliss is me.

I guess they still live together, maybe not, but I suppose that she has to make sacrifices and so be it. Maybe the Christmas spirit will reach her and her lover,, maybe not.

I just hope that from now on, the dysfunctional family she traps will feel joy, but probably not. I know I am freeing myself from that prison and going to enjoy life, one moment at a time.

In the end, I guess the sickness of one is the measure of the misery you have. When you take, take, take, take and take,, you miss the joy of giving. And when you give, give, give, give and give, you miss the joy of being taken care of. So I say the pain stops here and the joy begins now. Peace.


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