Home
From The Personal Standpoint
Topics & Articles
Book Recommendations & Reviews
Resources

Go to: My Blog
Go to: My Deadjournal

- ED Edition -
- - - Nutrition Facts
- - - Food Science
- - - Disorders
- - - "After Effects"
- - - Diets [Disordered]
- - - Safe Foods
- - - Recipes
- - - Exercises
- - - Comments

Holiday Season

This holiday season isn’t like last year’s. My routine, in hopes of whichever: Turn on the Christmas Tree that sparkles dimly in natural day light. Then stare hopelessly searching for gifts that should be lain there. Artlessly there is nothing. I see past holiday seasons and remember the warm, dark faces - shadowy in light of small burning lights and candles. The reassuring thoughts and sayings: “We should do this more often.” The heart-warming cards received that were taped to gift boxes. There were dozens last year. Always a steady increase of gifts each year - each minding age, interests and requests. But now, I stare, walk away, and study - glancing only a few times.

I’d like to go back to Thanksgiving, start from there. My brother and his girlfriend Maria spent it with us. Twas a comical day! Mother, drunken on Bailey’s (My new favourite drink) and Southern Comfort which she mixed in, disregarding our forewarning. I resorted to wine coolers, sneaking shots of Bailey’s later that evening and throughout the week.

The weekly dosage came with reason however. Mother caused me temporary brain damage by hitting the back of my head with a 5 - 7 pound shower curtain rolled in its plastic bag. Furious I was. I blurted threats that I literally meant such as: “If you fucking hit me again, I swear I’ll hit you back! Harder at that!” I really do mean what I say. I could also surprise her criticizing, slandering ass by poisoning her brandy. Yes, I am QUITE able to work up conspiracies.

We’ve had confrontations every week this holiday season. I don’t regret a word of what I’ve said. She must learn. In the meant time, I will be blunt and pitilessly truthful.

I requested one gift I so desired: A cello. ONE! She makes such bewildering promises that I carry the permanence of anger. For fuck’s sake, why can’t you live up to your fucking promises? Are you that fucked up and cold?

If I do not receive what I specifically requested, which she accordingly agreed to, I will throw a fit. Not a fit of adolescence. No. . . A fit of decomposing tolerance and POSSIBLY mentality.

Until next time. . .

[Back to Memoirs]