kittykats1's blog post - Dread.

Dread. That is what I feel. I am not myself at the moment. You see, last Thanksgiving my uncle died very tragically and unexpectedly. He fell down and fractured his skull on the tile of his very own kitchen floor. I guess all it takes is to hit just the right way and you are a goner. I did not have a Thanksgiving last year. The holiday was spent in tears, in a silent house. I had pushed things out of my mind but the closer the day looms - the worse I feel. If I could I would sleep the day away and wake up the next morning. I am a coward. I don't want to deal with the day and the emotions that are now associated with it. I am weak. I just want it all to go away. I don't want to go to my in-laws and paste a smile on my face and pretend that I am happy. Their cooking is shite anyhow, it always makes me ill. I haven't even the thought of a good meal to cheer me. All I have is the joy of a long, crappy drive to a meal that will give me grief, spent with people who I cannot stand and who like me very little in return. And I must smile prettily and pretend I am thrilled to be a part of it the whole fucking time. And here I am, in my pantry, holding a frigging can of Ocean Spray Cranberry Jelly and weeping and unable to stop.

I just want to crawl into bed, wrap my self in blankets and check out. I don't want to eat underdone turkey and disgusting stuffing with a bunch of people who will be doing nothing but making bad comments about me. If I wouldn't make my husband angry I would refuse to go...why does doing the 'right thing' seem so painful and crappy sometimes?